#tell me your desperate without telling me your desperate

[ateezscupid]

drunk sex with san ♡

When San asked you if you wanted to have a few drinks at his apartment, you had no idea what you were in for. You two had been friends for a while, or friends with benefits actually. It was a situation that suited you both just fine. You didn't need the complications of a relationship, not now, not ever. But tonight felt different.

He was sloppily kissing your neck. The both of you had far too many drinks and the room spun like a carnival ride. Whenever you guys would drink together before, it was usually just a casual hook-up, but tonight there was something more urgent about it. It felt more…passionate.

"San," you moan, fingers tangled in his hair as you grind your hips back and forth. His hands grip your waist tightly, guiding you in a delirious dance of pleasure. The alcohol had unleashed something within him, something fierce and primal that you've never quite seen before. His eyes, usually so playful, now burn with a serious intensity that sends a thrill down your spine.

You stopped the movement of your hips, his cock nestled deep inside of you. You both froze for a moment, lost in the intensity of your shared gaze. San's grip tightened, and you felt his breath hot against your skin as he whispered into your ear, "Is this what you want?" The question was loaded, and you knew it wasn't just about the sex.

"You're already inside of me…" You mumble. "Doesn't that answer your question?" San chuckles, his teeth grazing your earlobe before he sucks it into his mouth. The sensation sends a jolt through your body, making your toes curl. You're both drunk on desire and the scent of alcohol lingering on each other's breath.

"Y'know that's not what I meant," San says, his voice thick with emotion, pulling back to look at you again. His eyes are searching, looking for something in yours. You realize he's not just asking for consent; he's asking for something deeper. Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a sudden soberness wash over you.

"San-" You sniffle and pull him into a hug, burying your face into his neck. "I don't…I don't know."

"Baby, please," He mumbles, grabbing your hips and beginning to move them again, his dick sliding in and out of you with a desperation that makes your stomach flip. You can feel his heart racing, his pulse pounding in your ears as he holds you tightly. It's like he's trying to tell you something without words, his movements speaking for him.

"I'm scared," you whimper, the words slipping out of your mouth before you can even think to hold them back.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered, moving your hips with a gentle urgency that seemed to melt your fears away. His kisses grew softer, more tender, as if he was trying to reassure you with every caress of his lips. You felt his breath warm against your neck as he kissed you, his teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin, making you shiver.

"I would never hurt you." You swore you could see hearts in his eyes. "I just want you to be mine. Please." His words were a gentle plea that hit you like a wrecking ball. You felt the walls around your heart cracking, threatening to crumble under the weight of his sincerity.

"Please, princess."

[generallemarc]

you care more about proving a woman wrong than you do about improving society. Typical.

Why yes, that is the worst possible way to interpret "it is neither my fault nor my responsibility that members of my demographic do bad things."

Why do you think it’s unreasonable for women to be afraid of the group who commits 90% of the violent crimes?

For the same reason you think it's unreasonable to be afraid of the race that commits the majority of those crimes. Oh, but when you use crime statistics to reinforce your bigotry it's ok, because your statistics are because the demographic you're talking about is just objectively evil.

“being in very real danger of rape and murder”

As a victim of rape, there are two possibilities here: either you are a fellow victim venting rage, or you're lucky enough to not be a victim and are trying to tell me that you understand rape better than I do, that you magically know that every man is Schrodinger's rapist in spite of all the data you were relying on for your bigotry a second ago showing conclusively that rape is usually by someone the victim knows, which I can personally attest to. So, which is it?

Fourth, here are some links about reverse sexism and why it’s ridiculous:

Oh, some articles from a bigot telling me her bigotry isn't akshually bigotry because I'm not oppressed enough for people to judge me by my demographic? Lady, there is no combination of words in the English language that could ever convince me that being a bigot, which is judging someone based on their demographic, which is what you are doing, is akshually ok for this or that contrived exemption. I hold everyone to the same standards, because unlike you I believe in equality and not the supremacy of one group over another.

women are pushed out of male dominated industries (it’s not that we think it’s too hard or too dangerous, it’s that it’s hard to break the glass ceiling.

Oh, so there's women lining up to take jobs in logging and mining? Women are being artificially held back from their dream jobs in being manual laborers on construction sites? Show me. Show me that, specifically. Show me women wanting to work in the bad jobs.

You’re wrong and nobody cares that your feelings are hurt.

Projection does not become you, my dear.

Because women might have the ability to hurt your feelings, but men COMMIT 90% OF THE FUCKING VIOLENT CRIMES. THESE TWO THINGS ARE NOT THE SAME

And there's the collectivism at the root of every dumbass ideology ever conceived. Because Group A members have done bad things to Group B members, it is ok and in fact morally good for individual members of Group B to act like shitheads to members of Group A. What you're doing can't possibly be bad, because children are starving in Afri-I mean, because other people have it worse so your problem doesn't ma-I mean, because men oppress women in all these first-world democracies with countless women holding more power in their little fingers than most men could ever dream of. You wanna see real, genuine gender-based oppression? Try the Middle East. They are, and I say this without a shred of irony, in desperate need of feminism, of the classical model that you and your kind abandoned that simply called for both sexes to be treated equally in all things. But you'd rather defend your own bad behavior than direct your attention towards advancing the cause of women who, unlike your privileged first-world ass, actually need it.

man hating will never be progressive. you can't take terf shit and slap a rainbow coat of paint on it and act like it's somehow now based and woke and pro queer rights. snap out of it.

[niilue]

haii! can i request gojo + feminization + oral fixation + male reader?? thank you! 🩷

— gojo satoru • jujutsu kaisen —

cw: dom reader, male reader, sub gojo, feminization, oral fixation

niilue’s 3k event

“come on, satoru… show me how pretty you look.”

gojo’s cheeks were flushed pink, a stark contrast to the pale blue lace panties stretched snug across his hips. the matching garter straps clung to his thighs, accentuating every inch of his long legs. his usual cocky grin was gone, replaced with something softer — something desperate.

he was already on his knees, hands resting on his thighs, fingers twitching as he glanced up at you from under his snowy bangs. his lips, usually quick with teasing remarks, now trembled slightly, parted just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his pink tongue.

“you’re quiet,” you murmured, stepping closer. your fingers brushed over his jaw, tilting his chin up so his ocean-blue eyes met yours. “what’s wrong? cat got your tongue?”

gojo swallowed hard, his gaze flickering between your face and the obvious bulge pressing against your pants. he licked his lips without even realizing it — that pretty, pouty mouth of his already working in ways he didn’t even need to think about.

“you want something, don’t you?”

his nod was immediate, but his voice was barely above a whisper. “please…”

“please, what?”

a whine slipped past his lips as he shifted on his knees, the garters digging into his skin with every movement. he looked wrecked already, just from your presence, his usual bravado stripped away the moment he put on the lace.

“want… want it in my mouth,” he whispered, voice trembling with need.

“of course you do.”

you let out a soft chuckle, tracing your thumb along his lower lip. he sucked it in without hesitation, his eyes fluttering shut as he hollowed his cheeks, sucking gently. the way his tongue swirled around your thumb was obscene — slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second of having something between his lips.

“such a good little thing,” you murmured, watching how his lashes fluttered with every movement. “you love having your mouth full, don’t you?”

gojo whimpered around your thumb, nodding as his hips twitched involuntarily. you could see the bulge straining against the lace panties, a wet patch already forming at the front. he was completely gone — needy, desperate, falling apart just from this.

pulling your thumb from his mouth with a soft pop, you ran your fingers through his hair, gripping it just enough to make him gasp.

“open.”

his mouth fell open immediately, tongue out, eyes wide and glassy as he stared up at you. the sight was almost too much — gojo satoru, the strongest, kneeling at your feet, dressed up like your personal plaything, ready to take whatever you gave him.

“good boy,” you whispered, undoing your belt. “now, be sweet and keep sucking until i tell you to stop.”

and as your cock pressed past his lips, gojo moaned, his lashes fluttering again as he eagerly took you in, losing himself completely to the warmth, the weight, the taste.

word count: 490

[moonlit-stay]

· . * · ° ☆ Soft As Silk

☆ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader

☆ Genre: Fluff and Smut

☆ Word Count: 3.4k

☆ Warnings: Soft!Dom Hyunjin, Sub!Fem Reader, established relationship, reader (me) is very needy for her hot and sexy boyfriend (Hyunjin), tongue sucking, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, soft love making for a bit, multiple orgasms, marking, little bit of praise, creampie

☆ Please let me know if I missed anything

Color(s) Of This Fic: Gold, Cream, and White <3

If you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with this fic. This fic contains inappropriate content and is strictly 18+

Everything written in all of my work is consensual. Even if not stated within the work.

Enjoy :)

"You love me, right?"

The question, as simple as it is, is asked with urgency; each word laced with subtle worry and something you immediately identify as excitement. It startles you slightly, but you answer the question honestly, nonetheless.

"More than anything." Your voice seeps through Hyunjin's speaker like a warm blanket, immediately easing his worries while simultaneously enhancing his excitement. "Why? Is everything okay?"

Your question is soft, gentle, but laced with arguably more worry than Hyunjin's question was. You barely had time to pull your phone to your ear before he blurted out said question, giving you no time to even greet him before your mind started racing with assumptions.

"Yea," he breathes out in a laugh, one that tells you he means it. "I did something." He simply explains, knowing the brief explanation will only spark your curiosity further.

"What do you mean?" A reasonable question, one he was expecting, and one he only answers with a breathy chuckle. "Jinnie?"

"You'll see, just be ready for me, angel."

Before you can question him further, he ends the call, leaving you to soak in your own confusion and nerves as you impatiently wait for him to get home. You manage to come up with a list of things this something could be, but knowing Hyunjin, this list grows long rather quickly, and at the end of the day, it still doesn't actually answer your question.

You're lost in thought, an equal number of assumptions and ideas circling endlessly through the paths of your mind until they inevitably circle back to the starting point. If leaving you curious and eager was Hyunjin's goal, he had succeeded without much effort.

You miss the quiet sound of your front door opening in the distance, Hyunjin quickly slipping into the warm embrace of your shared home as the bitter cold desperately chases after him. He closes the door just as quietly, taking a cautious step forward as he leaves his shoes by the door.

"Baby?" Hyunjin calls out, peering around the space he can see from where he's standing.

No longer than a second later, he hears your hurried footsteps approach him from somewhere deeper in your home. You race towards your entryway, excitement bubbling in your chest as you finally turn the corner.

Your eyes briefly meet Hyunjin's as you stop dead in your tracks, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the unexpected sight of your boyfriend's short, blonde hair. It's a stark contrast to the long, dark brown wolf cut he's had for the past few months, and it effectively catches you off guard enough for all thoughts to leave your brain.

You take slow steps forward, almost cautiously, your mouth agape as you soak in Hyunjin's appearance. Hyunjin's hands find your waist the second you get within arms reach of him, pulling you close until your chest is flush against his. You can feel the warmth radiating off his broad form, the comforting feeling engulfing you as his fingers dip underneath the fabric of your shirt to feel your skin beneath his fingertips. He draws shapes against your soft skin as he patiently waits for your initial shock to die down.

"What do you think?" He softly asks you, his voice barely above a whisper as he smiles down at you. "Still love me?"

Aside from the initial shock, one thing you can confidently read and place amongst your jumbled thoughts is that he looks good.

"Still love you. So much," you reassure once more, your voice quiet as it dances along the border that separates a whisper from a mumble. You let your hands rest on his shoulders as your eyes rake over his features, your palms gently caressing the smooth curves of his muscles. "You look so, so good."

His features have always been perfect, but there's something about his buzzcut that deliciously highlights each of his features almost beyond recognition; putting each of them on display in a way that makes your eyes hungrily drink in every detail of his appearance. This, as well as this particular shade of blonde. It perfectly compliments his gorgeous skin tone in ways that make your head spin, his soft skin glistening in the dim lighting of your home.

There are many things about this look that draws you in like a siren at sea, drowning you in the overwhelming urge to touch and feel him everywhere at once. You simply can't take your eyes off your boyfriend. Hyunjin notices the look in your eyes, being all too familiar with the hidden meaning deep within your gaze, and he smirks down at you as his hands glide down your hips until they land on your ass. He pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours as your hands move to glide over the silky expanse of his freshly shaved head.

"Yea?" He asks with a grin, his voice low and teasing as he palms your ass, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer.

"Yea." You sigh out in response, your tone breathy and laced with need as your hands rest against the back of his neck.

Hyunjin leans down to press his lips to yours in a searing kiss, giving you exactly what he knows you want without wasting any time. A soft moan slips past your lips just from feeling him like this, close and intimate, and all for you.

"Need you," you breathe out against his jaw, pressing kisses along the defined bone as he leans his head back, enjoying the feeling of your soft lips against his heated skin.

"You have me, angel, always." His breathing is shaky when he answers you, moving to press kisses along your neck as you cling to him, desperate to hear more of your pretty noises as he mouths at your delicate flesh.

He nips at your skin in a messy trail from just below your ear to the base of your neck, letting his tongue glide over each pinpointed spot until you're whimpering helplessly against him.

"Please," you start, your voice quiet and weak as you paw at his shirt, "do something, Jinnie."

You feel Hyunjin smirk against you before his lips are on yours again, walking you backwards towards your shared room as you blindly follow his lead. He breaks the kiss long enough to pull his shirt over his head, quickly tossing it to the side before he gently grips both your wrists in his hands, guiding them to press flat against his abdomen. You run your hands over as much of him as you can reach from the close proximity, and the shaky breath you let out against Hyunjin's lips has him throbbing in his black sweatpants, his mind spinning at how needy and worked up you are for him.

Hyunjin pulls your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor as he presses you against the wall of your shared room. A gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of the cold surface against your warm skin, and Hyunjin takes this opportunity to lick into your mouth as he palms your tits. He groans at the taste of you on his tongue, your lips closing around the wet muscle as you lightly suck on it with a moan. Hyunjin's eyes roll back at the feeling of your lips eagerly sucking his tongue into your mouth the same way you do with his cock, his hands roughly gripping at your hips in a weak attempt to keep himself sane.

Hyunjin looks surreal in this state, and you can't help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, trying desperately to ease the growing ache between them as moans leave his swollen, parted lips every time you suck his tongue further into your mouth.

The simple action doesn't go unnoticed by Hyunjin, and his right hand is quick to slip past the waistband of your leggings. He cups your clothed mound, feeling your thighs immediately close around his large hand. He groans at how warm and wet you are against his palm as he presses the pad of his middle finger against your entrance. He can feel the tight hole flutter with need against his fingertip, your body eagerly reacting to his every touch.

You release his tongue with a wet pop, your head falling back against the wall with a shaky breath as Hyunjin slips his hand into your panties to make direct contact with your core.

"Look at me, baby." Hyunjin softly demands, watching your eyes immediately snap to his.

He sinks his middle finger into your heat, watching your eyes flutter shut as he presses up against your walls. Your arousal coats his finger, dripping down to his palm as he quickly adds his ring finger, slowly pumping the digits into you as your mouth falls agape.

"You're so wet for me, baby." He breathes out, picking up the pace of his digits so you can hear how wet you are. "All this because of my haircut, angel?" He asks, curling his fingers inside you to watch your eyes roll back.

"Y-Yes, fuck-" you moan out, feeling your legs shake as your high grows closer with every thrust of Hyunjin's long, slender fingers.

Hyunjin watches in amusement as you struggle to keep your eyes on him; hooded eyes, heavy with lust, drinking in his appearance as you let out breathless pants. A smirk pulls at his lips every time your eyes roll back or screw shut at the spine-tingling pleasure that courses through you all because of him.

He always takes this time to commit each of your facial expressions to memory, drawing every crease, line, and curve deep within his mind to keep in his own mental treasury.

"Jinnie," you breathe out urgently, your voice quiet and broken as you grow dangerously close to your high.

Your eyes dart back and forth between his own, watching as his smirk fades into a soft smile that beams with fondness and admiration as he nods at you. "S'okay, angel," his voice is soft and soothing as he watches your eyes shake before they inevitably close in ecstasy, your first high of the night washing over you in waves.

You cling to whatever part of him your hands can grip first, your body feeling weak as you cum around Hyunjin's fingers. He holds you securely in place, keeping you close and safe until you come down from your high.

"You okay, baby?" He asks you once your eyes refocus and immediately fall back on him.

"Need more, please," you whine out, pulling Hyunjin into a desperate kiss as you paw at the waistband of his sweatpants.

Hyunjin smiles into the kiss, basking in each of your noises, words, and actions that all circle back to something as simple as a haircut. He feels his chest swell with love and pride, knowing that you'll always love him regardless of how he chooses to alter his appearance, while also losing his mind at how easy it is for him to reduce you to a needy mess that is more than willing to take everything he gives you.

"I got you, angel, it's okay." He pants against your lips between messy kisses, pulling your bare chest flush against his own.

You can't help the soft moan that slips past your lips at the bare contact, your arms circling around his muscular back to hold him against you as your nails lightly press into his skin.

Hyunjin is quick to lay you on your shared bed, hovering over you as he moves to kiss down your neck once more. When he feels your legs press tightly against his hips in a weak attempt to ease the pulsing between your thighs, he pulls away from you completely. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and panties, pulling them off of you in one swift motion. He's quick to do the same with his sweatpants, leaving you both bare for the other's hungry eyes.

He slowly slides his hands along your inner thighs, pulling them apart until he can see your glistening core. His cock twitches at the sight as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, letting his head loll backwards as he lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

"How do you want me, baby?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tip an angry shade of red as precum beads at the slit.

"Don't care, as long as I can see you." You whine, watching him slowly lose his mind above you as he fights the urge to stuff every inch of his length deep inside your cunt.

He wastes no time in pulling you closer to him by the bend of your knees, pumping his length a few times before he hurriedly runs his tip through your sticky folds. You both let out whines at the contact, desperate and sensitive as you shift your hips upwards in an attempt to get him inside you. He takes the hint, impatience getting the best of him as he slides his tip down to your entrance. He can feel you pulsing against him, and without any more thought, he slowly starts pushing into you.

The stretch every time Hyunjin presses into you is never anything short of mind-numbing. All thoughts leave your brain, and your mouth hangs open as you take him inch by inch, feeling your walls part in invitation for his thick cock. He lets out choked moans above you as your eyes roll back, your walls squeezing every inch of him until he finally bottoms out. He holds as still as he can, waiting for your tight cunt to release its vice grip around him enough for him to move. Short, labored breaths slip past both your lips, you lock eyes with Hyunjin, pulling him closer until his forehead rests against yours.

"I love you, and I love the way you love me." Hyunjin whispers out to you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips to punctuate his confession.

"I love you, too," you whisper back, "I always will."

Hyunjin's lips move slow against yours, in perfect sync with his hips as he pulls out of you until just his tip is nestled between your slick walls. He slowly thrusts back into you, letting you feel all of him as you moan into his mouth. He keeps this pace, slowly thrusting into you as your tongues collide in messy, love-filled kisses.

He grips at one of your thighs, guiding it to wrap around his waist as you follow suit with the other, wrapping both your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Even with every part of Hyunjin pressed against you or inside you, you still feel like you need more of him, like no amount of physical contact is enough to satiate the deep-rooted need you have for him.

You don't know what makes this look so wildly different from the rest, other than the obvious length, but it's making your brain turn to mush. You want all of him at once, in a way that can only be described as carnal. You feel your brain grow increasingly fuzzy with every deep thrust and needy kiss, coherent thoughts fading into distant babbles as Hyunjin increases his pace only slightly. Your body rocks with every thrust, your legs around Hyunjin keeping you in place as Hyunjin palms at your soft tits.

You whine into his mouth, the pleasure overwhelming your ability to think as his bare cock drags deliciously against your velvety walls. You feel Hyunjin's thumb rest firmly against your clit, rubbing fast, calculated circles against the bud as you struggle to kiss him back. Hyunjin takes this opportunity to nip at your collarbones, letting red marks bloom across your skin to serve as a reminder of this moment later.

You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening rapidly, your moans becoming more frequent and higher in pitch as you grow closer to your high. When Hyunjin angles his hips to hit that little gummy spot deep within your walls, the knot unravels. Your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing further into Hyunjin's as your breath gets caught in your throat. You're completely silent as you shake against Hyunjin, every noise and potential breath captured in a pleasure prison as your hands flail around desperately before you choke out a scream. Hyunjin rides you through your high, his thumb still firm on your clit as his thrusts slow to shallow pumps.

"I've got you, baby, there you go." Hyunjin softly coos, watching you blink up at him before he slowly starts picking up his pace again.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck as your arms wrap around his back. Each of his thrusts still presses right against that sensitive spot, and you gasp as your body jolts in his hold.

"I know, angel, I'm sorry." He breathes out, his voice shaking with need as he thrusts into you with more force. "Just a little more for me."

You desperately cling to Hyunjin as need sets into his movements, his pace increasing and his thrusts forceful as he chases his high. The sound of his hips connecting with yours echoes in your ears, making your head spin as you moan out his name in breathy pleas.

"So good for me, baby," he groans out, feeling your walls tightly clench around him. "Taking all of me so well."

Hyunjin's thrusts grow erratic, his pace unrelenting as he drills into you so hard it almost hurts. His high quickly approaches as he listens to your incoherent babbles, your voice high-pitched and breathy, each word coming out in broken syllables as you thrash against him. He knows you're close again, he can feel it in the way your walls pulse around him, eagerly trying to milk him dry. He pushes his hips flush against yours, pressing his cock as deep as it'll go as he finally cums inside you.

The moans that he lets out against your heated skin as he stuffs you full of every drop of his cum has your third orgasm of the night hitting you like a ton of bricks. High-pitched screams, a messy string of swears, and Hyunjin's name spill endlessly past your lips as you shake against the broad expanse of his form, clawing at his back as choked moans leave his pillowy lips. Each of his sounds only adds to the cloudiness in your mind as your vision blurs, white hot pleasure setting a fire within each of your nerves as you cream around Hyunjin's cock.

You can feel Hyunjin's thighs shaking against the back of your own, and you mindlessly pull him to lay on top of you. Even in his dazed state, Hyunjin is quick to roll onto his side, taking you with him as your shared heavy pants fill the silence of the room. Neither of you say anything or dare to move for a while, choosing to bask in the afterglow of your orgasms until your heartbeats and breathing steady.

Hyunjin sits up just enough to lean over you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss before he pulls away from you with a smile.

"You really like my hair, huh, angel?" He asks you with a knowing smirk, watching as your eyes glaze over with need as you stare at his beautiful bare face.

"Mhmm," you nod up at him, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you pull him down to you with your gentle grip on the back of his neck. "I can't get enough of you, Jinnie."

He presses a quick kiss to your lips, much to your dissatisfaction, before he pulls away to take in your features. He gently tucks your hair behind your ear, his breath getting caught in his throat when he feels you clench around him. Through mutual sensitivity, his hips move on their own accord, shallowly thrusting his previous release deeper inside you as you nuzzle further into his chest; soaking up his warmth as he holds you close.

Nothing could've prepared you for Hyunjin's buzzcut, or the never-ending insatiable need for the gorgeous man that came with it, but when you reassure your love for him in ways like this, he can never find it in him to complain.

☆ Main Masterlist

☆ Hwang Hyunjin Masterlist

☆ Author's Note

Hwang Hyunjin, the man you are😣

This took me five entire days to write because he jumbled my thoughts so bad with this look (😩😫), I couldn't articulate my thoughts, feelings, and emotions into a work, but I finally managed and now here it is.

Also, little note about the title of this work: if you've ever felt a buzzcut (of that length in particular), you know that shit is soft as silk, and if you haven't, now you know🫶🏻

I still obsessively think about him and how goddamn fine he is with this buzzcut for many hours every single day. What has he DONE to me😣😵‍💫

☆ Taglist

@kpophubb @whatudowhennooneseesyou @skzgallll @ka0ila @hanji-coffee @pixie-felix

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist !

☆ Extras

©2021 - 2025 all rights are reserved to @moonlit-stay Stealing, Reposting, Copying, Translating, Plagiarizing, and Modifying any and all of my work is strictly prohibited.

Released: January 8th, 2025

[dreamersworldduh]

The Boy Who Broke Chains

• CONNER KENT x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Conner Kent, known as Superboy, is a powerful figure, capable of great destruction and widely feared. He is respected for his immense strength and serious demeanor, making him a strong ally. However, to you, he is much more than that. He is Project Kr, a clone of Superman from Cadmus who once helped you escape from captivity. You remember his fierce determination and how he fought for his own identity while freeing you. To the world, he's Superboy, but to you, he's the boy who brought hope and light.

WARNING! 18+MDNI! Swearing.

WORDS! 16.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Conner Kent is that guy, no one can tell me otherwise. The boy is fiooooneeeee, okay! This was a long one to write and it definitely trampled other fics I have planned, but I had get it out for the readers. Anyway, enjoy your reading! 😉 ✨

Acquiring the ability to control cosmic energy was never something you envisioned for your life, but desperate times can drive even the most ordinary person into extraordinary circumstances. For years, your family had been struggling under the suffocating weight of financial instability. Bills piled up like mountains, debts threatened to swallow your home, and your part-time job at the corner store barely scraped together enough to keep the lights on. Watching your parents age prematurely under the strain of endless stress made you feel helpless, as though you were merely a spectator to your family's slow unraveling.

But one evening, as you flipped through the faded pages of a secondhand newspaper, something caught your eye. It was a small, inconspicuous ad nestled between real estate listings and job postings. The bold letters read: "Volunteers Needed: Lucrative Opportunity. Life-Changing Rewards." Beneath it, the fine print offered no real details, just a phone number and one name: LexCorp.

You'd heard of LexCorp before—who hadn't? Depending on who you asked, it was either a beacon of technological progress or a shadowy conglomerate with too many secrets. Whispers about their projects varied from revolutionary to downright sinister. But desperation doesn't allow for hesitation. The promise of financial salvation was too tempting, so you dialed the number that same night.

A calm, professional voice on the other end of the line invited you for a preliminary interview. The process moved faster than you expected. Within days, you found yourself in a gleaming, sterile office building that loomed over the city like a monolith. You answered questions about your health, your resilience, and—strangely—your willingness to take risks. The interviewer never clarified what kind of risks, but when they slid the contract across the table, your focus locked on the reward: a sum so generous it could pay off all your family's debts and still leave enough for a comfortable life.

The contract was a labyrinth of legal jargon and densely packed paragraphs, punctuated by bold phrases like "irreversible effects," "assumption of risk," and "non-disclosure agreement." But the promise of freedom for your family outweighed any doubt, so you scrawled your signature across the dotted lines without looking back.

It wasn't until later that the grim reality set in. The "project" wasn't just experimental—it was dangerous. LexCorp had unearthed a crystalline artifact, a strange cube humming with energy not of this Earth. According to the scientists, it contained pure cosmic energy—an unstable force capable of reshaping matter, bending space, and altering the fabric of reality itself. They theorized that, in the right hands, it could create beings with abilities to rival even Superman.

You weren't alone in the program. A handful of other volunteers joined you, all desperate for their own reasons. The testing began almost immediately, a grueling process that pushed your body and mind to the brink. You were exposed to blinding flashes of the cube's energy, its chaotic currents coursing through containment fields barely strong enough to hold it. Each session felt like standing in the heart of a storm, your nerves stretched taut as the energy seared through your veins.

It didn't take long for the casualties to mount. One by one, the other volunteers fell. Some collapsed under the strain of the experiments, their bodies unable to adapt to the energy's raw intensity. Others met even darker fates as containment breaches unleashed bursts of uncontrollable power. The scientists treated each loss as a data point, scribbling notes on clipboards while their expressions remained disturbingly detached.

And then there was you. Somehow, inexplicably, you endured. Where others withered, you thrived. Your body didn't just survive the energy—it absorbed it, adapted to it, and transformed. You began to exhibit abilities that defied explanation: manipulating matter with a thought, generating bursts of pure energy, and sensing disturbances in the world around you as if you were tethered to something far greater than yourself.

At first, the scientists were ecstatic. You were their success story, their living proof that the experiment could work. But as your abilities grew, so did your unease. This power didn't feel natural—it felt like something alien, a force that didn't belong within a human shell. The memories of the other volunteers haunted you, their faces a constant reminder of the cost of your transformation.

The financial burden that had weighed so heavily on your family was gone, replaced by an entirely new weight—the realization that you were no longer just a person. You were a weapon, a product of ambition and desperation. Your life was no longer your own.

What began as a desperate attempt to help your family had turned you into something else entirely: a walking, breathing experiment. And while your body thrived on cosmic energy, your soul bore the scars of what you'd become.

The madness didn't end with your newfound powers. If anything, it spiraled into a nightmare beyond your darkest imaginings. LexCorp saw you not as a person, but as a priceless asset—an investment they intended to exploit to its fullest. To ensure you would remain under their absolute control, they delivered a cruel, calculated lie to your family: you had died in a tragic, catastrophic accident. There was no body, no closure, just grief. As far as your parents knew, you were gone—a victim of this cold, merciless world.

But you weren't dead. Far from it. LexCorp secretly transferred you to Cadmus, an infamous facility buried deep in classified government records, renowned for its cutting-edge but ethically dubious experiments in genetic manipulation and superhuman biology. The compound itself was a fortress, hidden in an unmarked location, surrounded by layers of security designed to ensure nothing—and no one—got out.

Your new "home" was a specialized containment cell, meticulously engineered to nullify your powers. The walls shimmered faintly with a metallic sheen, imbued with compounds and technology designed to absorb the cosmic energy flowing through your body. No matter how much strength you summoned, the cell rendered you powerless. It wasn't just a prison—it was a tomb for your autonomy.

The routines of captivity weren't physically harsh, but they were psychologically devastating. Each day was a dull monotony, a predictable loop that wore on your mind like sandpaper against stone. You were provided meals on a rigid schedule—nutrient-rich but devoid of flavor—and your quarters, while minimally comfortable, felt suffocating in their sterile, inhuman design. Time blurred into an endless expanse of sameness.

Occasionally, you had moments of interaction that broke the monotony. Conversations with the G-Gnomes, small, psychic creatures employed by Cadmus to probe your thoughts and monitor your mental state, offered a strange sort of companionship, though their eerie, insectoid features unnerved you. Then there was Kraig, a peculiar hybrid being who seemed almost amused by your predicament. He spoke in riddles, dropping cryptic hints about Cadmus's inner workings and the shadowy figures pulling the strings.

They also allowed you to practice your powers, but only under strict supervision. The training arena was a sterile, white void, filled with sensors that monitored your every move. You were tested to your limits—summoning bursts of energy, manipulating objects, even warping matter in controlled settings. But you weren't doing it for your benefit. Every session was another data point for Cadmus, another step in their quest to unlock and weaponize the full extent of your abilities.

The guards at Cadmus ensured compliance at all costs. They weren't your average enforcers. These were genetic hybrids, beings with enhanced strength, speed, and resilience, some of them augmented by alien DNA. Their presence was a constant reminder of the futility of resistance. Every hallway you walked, every glance from their cold, calculating eyes, made it clear that rebellion was not an option. Even if you managed to overpower them—which seemed impossible—the labyrinthine facility offered no clues about its location. No windows, no distinguishing features, nothing that hinted at where you might be in the world. For all you knew, you could have been on another planet.

The isolation began to chip away at your resolve. Days bled into weeks, the walls of your cell pressing closer with each passing moment. You began to lose track of time, your mind slipping into darker places. Dreams of escape faded, replaced by the oppressive reality of your imprisonment. And then, something unexpected happened.

On what seemed like an ordinary day, during one of your escorted walks to the training area, you encountered him. At first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you. Standing before you was a figure straight out of legend: Superman. The same chiseled jawline, the iconic red cape, the unmistakable "S" shield on his chest. Your heart froze in your chest. What was he doing here? Had he come to save you?

But Kraig, your enigmatic acquaintance, quickly corrected your assumption. This wasn't Superman. It was Project Kr—an imperfect clone crafted in Cadmus's relentless quest to control the power of Kryptonian DNA. Up close, you could see the cracks in the illusion: his slightly rougher features, the faint aura of instability in his demeanor. He was no savior, but another prisoner, bound by the same invisible chains that held you.

Meeting Project Kr changed everything. He wasn't just a clone; he was a person, struggling with his own identity, his own chains, his own quiet rebellion. In him, you saw a kindred spirit—a reflection of your own suffering and longing for freedom. For the first time, hope flickered in the darkness.

Finding someone to talk to was a relief, even if Project Kr wasn't exactly the warmest conversationalist. At first, your exchanges were brief—fleeting moments punctuated by short questions or observations. He wasn't particularly chatty, and his reserved nature made it difficult to know whether he even wanted to engage. Still, you persisted. Slowly, those terse exchanges began to grow into longer interactions. It might have started with a simple question—something about the sterile facility you both called a prison—but it gradually blossomed into hesitant conversations that carried the weight of mutual understanding.

Project Kr was captivated by your stories of the outside world. His eyes would narrow in quiet fascination as you described the mundane details of life beyond Cadmus. The way sunlight broke through trees in the morning, the scent of fresh rain on concrete, the chatter of strangers in a crowded marketplace—things you'd once taken for granted now felt like treasures as you recounted them. His questions were sharp and deliberate, as though each answer unraveled a world he had only dreamed of but never truly believed existed. You painted him pictures of blue skies and bustling cities, of quiet parks and chaotic streets. And every word seemed to stick, as if he was storing these glimpses of freedom deep within himself.

In return, you tried to nudge the conversation toward anything that might help you escape. You asked careful questions about the facility's layout, its security measures, and anything else that might give you a clue. But Project Kr's responses were vague, fragmented, and often unhelpful. It didn't take long to notice something was off about him. Sometimes, mid-conversation, his expression would cloud over, and he'd grow quiet, almost distant, as though listening to something you couldn't hear.

It was then you realized the truth: Kraig. The strange psychic hybrid who had been a begrudging presence in your life was manipulating Project Kr's mind. Subtly, perhaps even unconsciously, Kraig was twisting his thoughts and controlling his actions. The realization sent a chill down your spine. One day, in a rare moment of privacy, you managed to warn Project Kr. You kept your tone neutral and your words vague to avoid tipping off Kraig, but you urged him to be cautious, to question the voices in his mind. Project Kr didn't acknowledge your warning directly, but his thoughtful silence made you hope he'd understood.

Your chance at freedom came sooner than expected—and from a source you never could have predicted. One day, alarms erupted through the sterile corridors of Cadmus. The red lights painted the walls in flashes, and the normally unflappable guards scrambled like panicked ants. You had no idea what was happening. Then the sounds of muffled combat echoed through the facility, followed by explosions and shouts.

The chaos found its way to your cell when the door hissed open, and three figures appeared: Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. Their presence was so unexpected that you thought it might be a trick or some elaborate test. But there they were, battered but determined, with Project Kr at their side. They wasted no time in freeing you. There was no room for questions or hesitation—only urgency. They needed to move, and you weren't about to argue.

The escape was a whirlwind of chaos. The five of you fought your way through the labyrinthine facility, dodging guards and tearing through security systems. The young heroes moved with reckless determination, their banter sharp despite the life-or-death stakes. You quickly found your place among them, using your powers to blast through obstacles and defend the group as the facility descended into absolute pandemonium.

Along the way, you liberated others—victims of Cadmus's cruel experiments. Some were like you, beings infused with strange powers, while others were creatures whose very existence seemed impossible. Together, you all made your way toward freedom, leaving destruction in your wake. Guards fell, alarms blared, and containment units shattered as the facility unraveled.

When you finally broke free, the night air hit your skin like a long-forgotten memory. You barely had a moment to savor the victory, though, before the Justice League arrived. The towering heroes descended like gods from the sky, their presence commanding. But instead of celebration, you were met with sharp disapproval. Batman's cold glare, Wonder Woman's disappointment, and Superman's shock all weighed heavy on the young heroes.

The League was unimpressed with the recklessness of Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. But it was the sight of Project Kr that truly sent ripples through the group. Superman froze, staring at his clone with a mixture of disbelief, discomfort, and unspoken questions. The tension in the air was palpable as the League tried to make sense of what had happened and what Cadmus had been hiding.

You stood awkwardly amidst the chaos, unsure of where you belonged in this strange new reality. All you wanted was to go home, to finally see your family again and leave this nightmare behind. But it quickly became clear that wasn't going to happen—not yet. Batman's sharp, calculating gaze lingered on you, assessing your powers, your potential. You felt like a puzzle piece he was already trying to fit into a grander scheme.

It wasn't freedom you had walked into—it was the beginning of something much larger. The escape had torn open a new chapter in your life, one where you were no longer just a prisoner but a player in a game far beyond your understanding. And as the Justice League deliberated your fate, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the start of something far more complicated, far more dangerous, than you'd ever imagined.

Returning home should have been the end of your nightmare, but instead, it marked the beginning of a more complicated and harrowing chapter in your life. Batman, true to his word, arranged for your return to your family, but not without strings attached. Standing in the shadows of your old neighborhood, he issued a warning: he would be watching, checking in periodically to ensure you didn't lose control—or endanger anyone. His voice was steady, almost detached, but his presence left little room for argument. Exhausted, you didn't press for details. All you wanted was to go home.

The reunion with your parents was both heartwarming and devastating. When they opened the door, their faces were a storm of emotions—shock, disbelief, and overwhelming joy. The tears came quickly, followed by bone-crushing hugs, as they struggled to reconcile the son they thought they'd lost with the one standing before them now. But as relief gave way to reality, their joy turned to anger.

They didn't hold back, their voices rising as they scolded you for your recklessness. Volunteering for an experiment with LexCorp—of all places? What were you thinking? Didn't you know how dangerous they were? The words hit you like blows, but you understood the source of their anger. It was fear disguised as frustration, born from the agony they'd endured while believing you were dead. And though their scolding stung, it was underscored by a simple truth: they were just grateful to have you home.

For a brief time, it felt like life might return to normal. You tried to fall back into old routines, helping out around the house, making small talk at dinner, and even considering the possibility of returning to school. But nothing about you was normal anymore. The cosmic energy flowing through your veins wasn't something you could hide forever.

At first, the signs were subtle—a glowing fingertip here, a static hum in the air when you were nervous—but it quickly escalated. Your emotions became dangerous triggers. A flash of frustration could send a burst of energy surging from your hands, while excitement might cause objects to levitate or shatter. Despite your best efforts to suppress it, your powers were volatile and unpredictable. You knew you were losing control, and worse, your family was beginning to notice.

Then there was LexCorp. They weren't content to let you slip through their fingers. Just weeks after your return, strange cars began appearing near your house, their darkened windows reflecting nothing but menace. Agents loitered on the edges of your property, their suits sharp and their gazes sharper. They didn't bother hiding their intentions, occasionally knocking on the door with thinly veiled threats, demanding to know where you were. Their intimidation tactics grew bolder by the day, turning your home into a pressure cooker of fear and tension.

The breaking point came during an argument with your father. He had been on edge since your return, and his concern for your future boiled over when you mentioned wanting to go back to school. He insisted it wasn't safe—not for you, and not for anyone around you. But you were desperate for a shred of normalcy, and the argument escalated until it was loud enough to rattle the windows.

And then it happened. In a flash of frustration, you lost control. A surge of cosmic energy erupted from you, sending your father flying across the room. He hit the wall hard, slumping to the floor in stunned silence. Thankfully, he wasn't seriously hurt, but the look on his face—the mixture of fear and disbelief—broke something inside you. He wasn't looking at his son anymore. He was looking at a stranger, someone dangerous, someone he couldn't protect.

You knew then that you couldn't stay. As much as you loved your family, as much as they loved you, you were a threat to their safety. And LexCorp's shadow looming over them only made things worse. You couldn't protect them here—not from yourself, and not from the enemies you'd made.

Desperate and unsure of what else to do, you made a decision that felt surreal: you called Batman. The fact that you even had the means to summon the Dark Knight was a strange reminder of how far your life had strayed from normalcy. When he answered, his voice was as calm and precise as ever. After you explained the situation, he listened quietly before offering a solution.

Batman extended an invitation—or perhaps a directive. He offered you a place at The Cave, a secret base for young heroes and sidekicks under the mentorship of the Justice League. It wasn't just a sanctuary; it was a training ground. There, you could learn to control your powers, defend yourself, and face the enemies who would inevitably come for you. It wasn't a retreat—it was an enlistment into a dangerous new world.

The Cave was unlike anything you'd imagined. Hidden beneath layers of earth and stone, it buzzed with cutting-edge technology and the faint hum of activity. This wasn't just a hideout—it was a hub for covert operations. The young heroes who called it home were unlike anyone you'd ever met. Aqualad, Robin, Kid Flash, and others moved through the space with confidence, their actions precise and their camaraderie sharp-edged. They weren't just kids—they were warriors in training, bearing the weight of their mentors' legacies.

You felt out of place among them, like an outsider in a world where everyone else already knew their role. They were fast, skilled, and experienced, while you were still struggling to keep your powers in check. But this was your new home, your new reality. It wasn't what you wanted—far from it—but maybe it was what you needed. Here, under Batman's watchful eye and surrounded by others who understood the burden of extraordinary abilities, you had a chance to find stability.

This was no ordinary life, but then again, you were no ordinary person anymore. You weren't just a kid trying to fix your family's problems. You were something more—a fledgling hero, a potential force for good. And as you stood in the Cave, surrounded by the hum of advanced technology and the determined faces of your new teammates, you realized this wasn't the end of your story. It was only the beginning.

Among the chaos, one thing brought you a measure of comfort: seeing Project Kr, now going by the name Conner. The sight of his familiar face, stoic as ever, made the adjustment a little easier. For Conner, the surprise was mutual. He hadn't expected to see you again, and though his expression didn't betray much, you could tell he was glad to have someone he recognized.

For you, it felt like a lifeline. You had barely interacted with the team members who had freed you—Kid Flash, Robin, and Aqualad—and they were already deep into their missions and camaraderie. While they were friendly enough, their bond made you feel like the odd one out. But Conner was different. He wasn't a polished hero or an experienced team player; he was just trying to figure things out, much like you. That small connection eased some of the tension.

Not long after settling in, you were introduced to two more members of the team: Artemis and M'gann. Artemis, with her sharp wit and cool confidence, made an immediate impression. She wasn't one to sugarcoat her words, and her tough exterior initially made her seem intimidating. But there was something about her—an edge of vulnerability beneath the bravado—that suggested she understood what it meant to fight for your place in a world that doubted you.

Then there was M'gann, or Miss Martian, who was the complete opposite. Her warmth and enthusiasm were like a burst of sunlight in the dim, serious atmosphere of the Cave. She greeted you with a beaming smile and an openness that immediately put you at ease. Her curiosity about you was genuine, and she made an effort to include you in conversations and activities, even when you felt like retreating into the background.

It didn't take long for you to realize how different each member of the team was. Robin was quick-witted and a little cocky but clearly brilliant; Kid Flash was an endless source of energy and humor; Aqualad carried himself with a calm, commanding presence that made him seem like the glue holding the group together. Conner, however, was still figuring out where he fit, much like you.

Through all of this, Conner remained a steady presence. While he wasn't one for long conversations, his quiet support was reassuring. Occasionally, the two of you would exchange a few words about Cadmus, your powers, or just the strange twists your lives had taken. Those moments of familiarity in an otherwise unfamiliar world kept you grounded.

Artemis and M'gann quickly became part of your routine as well. Artemis was the one who pushed you during training, challenging you to step up and prove yourself. M'gann, on the other hand, helped you feel like part of the team, her kindness and patience making the transition easier. Slowly but surely, you began to feel like you belonged—not just as someone seeking refuge, but as a true member of something bigger.

In your free time, you and Conner began spending more and more time together, falling into an easy, natural rhythm that neither of you had expected. At first, it was just casual conversations, catching up on everything that had happened since Cadmus. You talked about the weeks you'd been apart—how he'd adjusted to life at The Cave, how you'd wrestled with your powers and the lingering guilt of your escape. Those chats were brief but meaningful, moments of quiet connection amid the constant chaos of life as young heroes. But before long, they became something you both craved—moments of solace that grounded you in ways nothing else could.

It was impossible not to notice how much Conner had changed. He was still the strong, silent type, but there was a new layer to him now, a quiet confidence that made him seem more centered. Gone was the unsteady, uncertain figure you'd met in the depths of Cadmus. In his place was someone learning to take control of his life, to find his place in the world. That growth only deepened your respect for him, and soon, your conversations began to shift. What started as small talk about training sessions or team dynamics turned into late-night discussions about your fears, your hopes, and the strange, winding paths that had led you both to this point.

It felt effortless, natural, like you could say anything to Conner without fear of judgment. He listened in a way few others did—quietly, intently, as if every word you spoke carried weight. And when he opened up in return, you could feel the trust he was placing in you, each admission a window into the person he was becoming. The bond between you deepened with every conversation, and it didn't take long for you to realize that what you felt for Conner wasn't just friendship. It was something much more profound, something that scared and exhilarated you all at once.

You couldn't ignore it anymore. How could you, when every glance he gave you seemed to linger a little longer than it should, when every brush of his hand against yours sent a shiver down your spine? Those piercing ocean-blue eyes seemed to see straight through you, leaving you breathless and flustered in ways you hadn't experienced before. And then there was his physique—broad shoulders, a chiseled frame, and strength that felt almost mythical. You'd caught glimpses of him without a shirt during training, and those moments had a habit of staying with you, replaying in your mind at the most inconvenient times.

But it wasn't just his looks. It was everything about him—the way he could calm your nerves with a simple look, the way he listened to you ramble about the smallest details of your day, the way his presence made you feel safe in a way you hadn't felt since before Cadmus. Even his infamous temper, which should have been a warning sign, only drew you closer. You'd seen the fire in him, but you'd also seen the way he softened around you, the way your words could bring him back from the edge when no one else could.

And then there were the little things: waking up in the morning with thoughts of Conner already swirling in your mind, the sound of his voice echoing in your head long after he'd spoken, the way his rare but radiant smile could make your heart race. It wasn't just a crush—it was something deeper, something undeniable. You were falling for him, hard, and every moment you spent with him only solidified that truth.

Unbeknownst to you, Conner was wrestling with similar feelings. At first, he didn't understand what he was experiencing. Emotions were still a foreign concept to him, something he was learning to navigate, but the more time he spent with you, the clearer it became. The way his heart leapt when you smiled, the way your laughter could cut through the anger he so often struggled to contain, the way his pulse quickened every time you touched his arm—it all pointed to one undeniable fact: you weren't just a friend. You were someone who made him feel alive.

He began gravitating toward you without even realizing it. Whether it was during training sessions, missions, or quiet moments in The Cave, he found excuses to be near you. He volunteered to partner with you whenever possible and couldn't help but let his protective instincts take over whenever you were in danger, even though he knew you could handle yourself. It wasn't just habit—it was something deeper, something he couldn't deny no matter how hard he tried.

The rest of the team noticed almost immediately. The chemistry between the two of you was impossible to ignore, and it quickly became the subject of playful teasing. Kid Flash, ever the joker, took every opportunity to comment on the "will-they-won't-they drama," making exaggerated bets on how long it would take for one of you to confess. Robin smirked knowingly but kept his thoughts to himself, while Artemis alternated between amusement and light encouragement, often giving you both subtle nudges to just admit your feelings already.

But not everyone was thrilled. M'gann, who had her own complicated feelings for Conner, watched the growing connection with thinly veiled jealousy. She tried to hide it, putting on a brave face and pretending everything was fine, but her envy was apparent. It cast a shadow over the group dynamic, one that you and Conner both felt but didn't know how to address.

Despite the teasing, the jealousy, and the unspoken tension, nothing could stop what was building between you and Conner. Every shared glance, every accidental touch, every late-night conversation brought you closer to the inevitable. The feelings between you were too strong to ignore, and sooner or later, one of you would have to take the leap. Because this wasn't just a fleeting crush—it was something unstoppable, something that had already started to change both of you in ways you couldn't begin to explain.

The weight of your emotions kept both of you tethered in uncertainty. That is, until one quiet evening when the truth could no longer be contained.

It had been a long, grueling day at The Cave. Training sessions had pushed everyone to their limits, and the tension among the team was palpable. You needed a break from the relentless chaos, and as if reading your mind, Conner had suggested a walk along the beach near the cliffs. Without hesitation, you agreed. Wolf, his ever-loyal companion, bounded ahead, his paws leaving faint imprints in the sand as he explored the shoreline. Occasionally, he would stop and glance back, his amber eyes checking to make sure you were both keeping up.

The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange, pink, and gold. The ocean mirrored the colors, its surface shimmering like liquid light as waves crashed rhythmically against the shore. A gentle breeze carried the salty tang of the sea, tugging lightly at your clothes and hair. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds the soft crunch of sand beneath your feet and the distant calls of seabirds.

It was a moment of rare peace, one that felt almost too perfect to be real. For once, there were no missions looming, no training drills to face, no external pressures demanding your attention—just the two of you and the endless horizon.

Conner was the first to break the silence. His voice, quiet and contemplative, barely rose above the sound of the waves. "You know," he began, his gaze fixed on the distant ocean, "a lot has changed since I left Cadmus." There was a hesitance in his tone, as if he were still trying to piece his thoughts together. "Back then, everything was simple. Not in a good way, just... empty. I followed orders. Did what I was told. I didn't think about anything beyond that."

You glanced at him but stayed silent, sensing that this was something he needed to say in his own time. His jaw tightened briefly, and he ran a hand through his hair, his expression flickering with uncertainty. "Since then, I've learned a lot—about myself, about the world, about what it means to... choose who you want to be." He hesitated, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "And about what I want."

The confession caught you off guard, your chest tightening as his words sank in. Conner glanced at you, his ocean-blue eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "Sometimes, it's overwhelming," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "I feel like I'm always trying to catch up, to figure out who I'm supposed to be, what I'm supposed to do. But when I'm with you..." He stopped walking, turning to face you fully.

The wind ruffled his dark hair, and the fading sunlight bathed him in a golden glow that made his chiseled features look almost unreal. For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression soft but intense, as if searching for the right words.

"When I'm with you," he continued, his voice steady now, "everything feels... clear. Like none of the confusion or doubt matters. Like I can just be."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. The air around you felt charged, the world shrinking until it was just the two of you. Before you could respond, Conner took a small step closer, the sand shifting beneath his boots.

"I don't know how else to say this, so I'm just going to say it," he said, his voice firmer now, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "I love you."

The words hit you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. He stood there, raw and unguarded, every wall he'd ever built stripped away in this one, vulnerable moment. "I didn't realize it at first," he continued, his voice quieter now, as if the confession itself had drained some of his resolve. "But I do. I love you. And it's not just some fleeting feeling—it's real. It's... everything."

The world seemed to stop. The waves, the wind, even Wolf's distant barking faded into the background. All you could see, all you could hear, was Conner standing before you, his words hanging in the air like the last rays of sunlight on the horizon. He looked at you with a mixture of hope and fear, his hands hanging uncertainly at his sides, as though he didn't quite know what to do with them.

"I love you," he repeated, softer this time, as if reaffirming it to himself. "And I don't care if it's messy or complicated. I just... I had to tell you."

It was then that you realized your hands were trembling, your emotions a whirlwind of shock, joy, and disbelief. You had imagined this moment so many times, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer weight of hearing those words spoken aloud. For the vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion etched into his features.

"Conner..." you began, your voice catching in your throat. His name felt like a lifeline, grounding you in this moment that felt too big, too important, to fully comprehend. You stepped closer, your trembling hands finding their way to his. The warmth of his touch steadied you, his calloused fingers gently enclosing yours as if to anchor you both.

Looking into his eyes, you saw everything you needed to say reflected back at you—the trust, the connection, the undeniable truth of what you both felt. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the world in twilight, you realized that this wasn't just a moment of confession. It was the beginning of something new, something real, and something worth holding onto.

"I love you too," you whispered, and the smile that broke across Conner's face was brighter than the fading light of the setting sun.

The confession lingered between you like a fragile thread, heavy with emotion yet pulsing with potential. For a long moment, neither of you moved, the weight of Conner's words and the silent tension locking you both in place. His piercing blue eyes searched yours, as though trying to read your thoughts, his vulnerability exposed in a way you had never seen before. Then, as if something inside him shifted, Conner took a step closer—close enough for the warmth of his body to cut through the cool ocean breeze.

He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The intensity in his gaze said everything. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every opportunity to step back, to stop what was about to happen. But you didn't. Your feet stayed rooted in the sand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest as the world around you seemed to fall away. The rhythmic crash of the waves, the distant cries of seagulls, even the faint sound of Wolf panting nearby—all of it faded into nothing. There was only Conner, and the way he made the air between you feel electric.

And then his lips met yours.

The kiss was everything you hadn't realized you were waiting for. It was slow at first, tentative, like the beginning of a story you both wanted to savor. But it didn't stay that way for long. As the initial hesitation melted away, the kiss deepened, growing in intensity. There was a passion behind it, a rawness that spoke of everything the two of you had been holding back for so long. His lips were soft yet firm, his movements deliberate but hungry, as though he were pouring every unsaid word, every pent-up emotion, into this one perfect moment.

His hands, rough and calloused from endless training, moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted with the fervor of the kiss, and it sent a shiver through you. It was as though he were afraid to let you go, afraid you might vanish if he didn't hold on tight enough. You leaned into his touch, your own hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders, gripping him as if to anchor yourself in the surging tide of emotions threatening to sweep you away.

The kiss deepened further, and Conner pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. The feel of him—the strength, the warmth, the sheer presence—was overwhelming. His body pressed against yours, solid and steady, making you feel both consumed and protected all at once. You could feel the faint, steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest, a grounding reminder that this moment was real, that he was real.

Your own hands slid up to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with everything you had. Each movement, each touch, felt charged, electric. It wasn't just passion; it was love—raw, unfiltered, and impossible to contain. The connection between you seemed to hum with a life of its own, as if the universe had been holding its breath for this exact moment.

Conner tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss further as his hands tightened around your waist, holding you close but still gentle, still careful. His touch sent warmth radiating through you, a heat that spread from where his hands rested to the very tips of your fingers. You felt as though you might burst from the sheer intensity of it all, yet you didn't want it to end.

And then, reluctantly, the two of you broke apart, gasping softly as you both remembered the need to breathe. Conner didn't move far. His forehead came to rest gently against yours, his breath warm and uneven as he tried to steady himself. His eyes remained closed for a moment, a soft smile curving his lips—a smile so rare, so full of affection, it made your chest ache.

When his eyes finally opened, they were filled with a tenderness that made your knees weak. He didn't speak right away, and neither did you. Words felt unnecessary in the face of everything that had just passed between you. Instead, he lifted a hand, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, as if to confirm to himself that you were still there, still real.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he finally admitted, his voice low and almost shy, a sharp contrast to the confident strength he usually carried. The vulnerability in his tone only made your heart swell further.

"So have I," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft crash of the waves. The words carried a weight of truth that made him smile again, his rare, breathtaking smile that seemed to light up the darkening horizon.

For a while, neither of you moved, content to stay locked in this moment. His arms remained around you, holding you close as the ocean breeze swirled around you both. Wolf's distant bark brought a faint laugh from Conner, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he finally pulled back, though his hands never left your waist.

Standing there, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, you felt as though the world had shifted. The tension that had lingered between you for weeks, the unspoken feelings that had hung in the air, were gone. In their place was something real, something steady.

And in that moment, as you gazed into Conner's eyes and saw nothing but affection and certainty reflected back at you, you knew one thing for sure: this was only the beginning.

From that day on, everything changed. The kiss on the beach didn't just mark the start of your relationship—it was the foundation for something transformative, something neither of you had fully realized you were missing until that moment. You and Conner became inseparable, building a bond that was as powerful as it was tender. Over the next five years, your lives intertwined as you grew together, navigating the complexities of both hero life and the challenges of adulthood.

The beginning of your relationship was an adjustment period, filled with both excitement and learning curves. Conner wasn't the most expressive person when it came to words, but his actions spoke volumes. He showed his love in the quiet, meaningful ways that only he could. Whether it was standing protectively closer to you during tense missions, slipping you a cup of coffee just the way you liked it after a grueling training session, or silently sitting by your side during long, quiet evenings, his devotion was clear.

Conner wasn't one for grand romantic gestures, but the little things made up for it. He remembered details about you that no one else did—your favorite music, the way you liked to unwind after a stressful day, the exact spot on your shoulder that was always sore after combat training. His love wasn't loud or flashy, but it was steady and undeniable.

Of course, it wasn't perfect. Adjusting to each other's quirks and differences wasn't always easy. Conner's occasional temper and your own stubborn streak led to clashes, sometimes over the smallest things—who forgot to clean up after training, or which of you deserved the last slice of pizza after a long mission. Other arguments ran deeper, rooted in the immense pressure both of you faced as heroes. Sometimes Conner would shut down emotionally, retreating into himself when he felt overwhelmed. Other times, you'd push yourself too hard, refusing to admit when you needed help. But no matter how heated or difficult things became, the two of you always found a way to reconcile, your love proving stronger than any disagreement.

Not everyone was thrilled about your relationship—M'gann, in particular. It was no secret that she had feelings for Conner, and the announcement of your relationship hit her hard. Though she wasn't openly hostile, the tension was undeniable. At first, her actions were subtle: lingering a little too long in conversations with Conner, finding excuses to partner with him during missions, or offering advice that felt far more personal than professional. Her glances toward you were sharp, her words clipped and frosty whenever you were around.

You tried not to let it bother you, but there were moments of doubt. M'gann was stunningly beautiful, effortlessly charismatic, and had a connection with Conner from the early days of his life outside Cadmus. Part of you couldn't help but wonder if she could offer him something you couldn't. But Conner's loyalty never wavered. He made it clear where his heart lay, whether by politely but firmly shutting down M'gann's attempts or simply moving closer to you during team gatherings, taking your hand in his and grounding you in the reassurance of his presence.

Over time, M'gann began to accept the reality of your relationship. Her attempts to win Conner over became less frequent, and while the tension between you two never completely disappeared, it faded into the background. Eventually, her focus shifted toward her own growth, and though your relationship with her would never be warm, it settled into a quiet indifference. She became a minor distraction compared to the love and connection you shared with Conner.

As the months passed, you and Conner faced countless challenges together, each one shaping the bond between you. Life as young heroes wasn't easy—the missions were grueling, the stakes high, and the sacrifices often painful. But through it all, you were each other's constant. You celebrated victories together, no matter how small, and offered comfort during moments of doubt and loss. Conner's quiet strength became your anchor, while your unwavering support helped him find his footing in a world that often felt too complicated and overwhelming.

When life outside the team came calling, you tackled those challenges together too. From figuring out how to balance hero duties with the mundane struggles of daily life to simply learning what it meant to grow into yourselves, you became each other's greatest ally. On the days when it felt like the weight of the world was too much, Conner would pull you into his arms, his steady heartbeat reminding you that you weren't alone. And on the nights when his own doubts crept in, you were there to remind him of his worth, of the incredible man he had become.

Then five years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. You went from two unsure teenagers navigating the chaos of the team to adults who had found not just strength in one another, but a deep and abiding love that had weathered every storm. There were still challenges, of course—every relationship has them—but the foundation you'd built together was unshakable.

The connection that began in the sterile halls of Cadmus had blossomed into something extraordinary. Conner wasn't just your boyfriend—he was your partner in every sense of the word. He was the person who stood by your side in battle, the one who held you close when the nightmares came, the one who believed in you even on the days when you struggled to believe in yourself.

And you weren't just his boyfriend—you were his rock, his constant in a world that had once seemed so alien and confusing. You gave him a sense of purpose, of belonging, that he'd never known before. Together, you had built a life filled with love, trust, and the unshakable certainty that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you could face them as long as you had each other.

What began as a quiet connection had grown into a love that was steady, powerful, and enduring. Conner was your home, and you were his. And as you looked toward the future, you knew that whatever storms came your way, you would weather them together. Always.

You two had grown into your roles as senior members of the now-expanded Team, a transformation that felt both surreal and inevitable. What had started as a small, tight-knit group of young heroes had evolved into a sprawling organization with dozens of recruits, each bringing their own unique powers, personalities, and challenges. It was a far cry from the days when you and Conner were the rookies, scrambling to keep up with the veterans. Now, you stood among the most experienced, entrusted with leading the next generation of heroes and steering them through the chaos of their missions.

Stepping into leadership roles hadn't been easy at first. The weight of responsibility was daunting, especially when you remembered your own early missteps. But with time, you both found your footing, developing your own distinct styles as leaders. Conner's leadership was natural, almost effortless. His steady presence and unshakable sense of duty made him a rock for his squadron. He commanded respect without demanding it, his quiet authority inspiring trust and loyalty. Conner was the kind of leader who always showed up—whether it was to guide his team through a perilous mission or to quietly offer a word of encouragement to a struggling recruit.

Your leadership style was different but no less effective. Where Conner's strength lay in his consistency and calm, you excelled at connecting with your squad on a deeper level. You had a gift for understanding people, seeing their potential even when they couldn't. Your approach combined empathy with just the right amount of tough love, pushing your team to grow while making sure they always felt supported. You understood the importance of believing in someone, of showing them they could succeed even when the odds felt impossible. Your recruits respected you not just as a leader, but as someone who truly cared about their success.

Despite the demands of leadership, the dynamic between you and Conner remained as strong as ever. Though your duties often pulled you in different directions, you always found time to collaborate. Whether it was during strategy meetings, debriefing after missions, or those quiet moments when you both needed to vent about the latest recruit who thought they could "go solo," you leaned on each other. You balanced each other perfectly—Conner's pragmatic approach grounded you, while your empathetic perspective often helped him see angles he might have overlooked. Together, you made a formidable team, both in and out of the field.

The new normal was a far cry from the uncertain days of your early years with the Team. Back then, you'd felt like you were constantly running to catch up, to prove yourself. Now, you and Conner had become the ones others turned to for guidance. It was a strange realization at first, but also deeply rewarding. You weren't just fighting battles anymore—you were shaping the future, mentoring the next generation of heroes who would one day carry the mantle.

That didn't mean it was easy. The new recruits were a mixed bag, as new recruits always are. Some were eager but reckless, driven by the need to prove themselves in ways that often landed them in trouble. Others were more cautious, unsure of their abilities and hesitant to take risks. And then there were those who chafed under authority, testing the limits of your patience. Each recruit brought their own challenges, and managing them required different approaches.

Conner handled the rebellious ones with his usual no-nonsense attitude. He didn't tolerate excuses or slacking, but he was also fair, quick to recognize hard work and improvement. His squad knew where they stood with him, and while his methods were sometimes intimidating, they were undeniably effective. You, on the other hand, excelled at breaking through the walls recruits often put up, finding ways to reach even the most difficult personalities. You had a knack for making them feel seen and valued, which often helped smooth over the rough edges.

You and Conner frequently swapped strategies, often during late-night conversations in the Cave or on rare quiet evenings at home. These moments were a reminder of how well you worked together, your different styles complementing rather than clashing. You didn't always agree—Conner's straightforward, discipline-focused approach sometimes clashed with your more empathetic methods—but your shared goal of keeping the team safe and prepared always brought you back to the same page.

Conner had just wrapped up one of the most grueling missions he'd faced in weeks, tracking Clayface through the rancid, labyrinthine sewers beneath Gotham City. The mission had been long, messy, and exhausting. With Nightwing leading the operation, the team had managed to corner and neutralize Clayface, but not without a few close calls—and plenty of exposure to Gotham's less-than-pleasant underbelly. By the time they returned to the Cave, the stench of sewage clung stubbornly to Conner, his clothes ruined and his mood sour.

After a quick debrief in the command center, Conner wasted no time heading to the showers. The hot water was a welcome relief, scalding away the grime and the memory of slogging through filth. He scrubbed at his skin with almost aggressive determination, muttering under his breath about how the smell refused to go away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he emerged clean and refreshed, droplets of water still clinging to his short hair and glistening on his skin.

He made his way to your shared room in the Cave, his fatigue weighing heavy on him. The door creaked open, and as he stepped inside, the sight before him made every ounce of stress from the day begin to fade. You were lounging on the bed, wearing one of his black T-shirts, the oversized fabric swallowing your frame and hanging down to your thighs. It was comically large on you, but that only made it more endearing. You sat cross-legged, utterly engrossed in the book resting in your lap, your brow furrowed slightly as you turned the page.

At the sound of the door opening, you looked up, your expression softening instantly into a warm, affectionate smile. "Hey," you said, your voice light and soothing, as though you'd been waiting for him all day.

A small but genuine smile tugged at the corners of Conner's lips. "Hey," he replied, his voice still low and gravelly from exhaustion. Without a moment's hesitation, he crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He didn't bother with words, didn't ask for permission—he simply made his way to you, resting his head on your stomach as he settled himself between your legs. His damp hair pressed against the fabric of the T-shirt you wore, the coolness of it a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin beneath. His strong arms slid around your waist, pulling you close as though anchoring himself to you.

You didn't need to ask what he needed. Over the years, you'd come to understand Conner's unspoken language. He wasn't one to articulate his emotions easily, but his actions said more than words ever could. The way his body relaxed against yours, the way his breath slowed, and the way his grip on your waist tightened slightly—it all told you exactly what he was seeking: comfort, grounding, and the peace that only you could provide.

Your hand moved instinctively to his hair, your fingers threading gently through the damp strands. You stroked with slow, deliberate motions, your touch light but firm, knowing how much he loved this simple gesture. Conner let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, the tension visibly melting from his body. His arms flexed briefly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, as though to ensure you wouldn't slip away.

"Tough mission?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued their soothing rhythm.

Conner hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes half-lidded as he let himself relax fully against you. "Clayface. Sewers. You can probably imagine the rest," he muttered, his tone laced with weariness.

You chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating gently against his cheek where it rested on your stomach. "Yikes," you teased. "Bet that smelled like roses."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his dry humor peeking through despite his exhaustion. "Yeah, real refreshing," he murmured, his voice softer now. "Definitely one for the books."

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that came so naturally after years of being together. The sounds of the Cave—distant footsteps, the hum of machinery—faded into the background. You set your book aside, your attention fully on Conner now, your hand never ceasing its slow, comforting movements through his hair. His breathing grew steadier, his shoulders losing the last remnants of their tension as he melted into you completely.

The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around you like a warm cocoon. Conner's grip on you was secure but gentle, his presence grounding you just as much as you grounded him. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him, his face peaceful and relaxed in a way that made your heart ache with love. These were the moments you cherished most—the quiet, unspoken ones where words weren't necessary, where just being together was enough to make the world feel right.

As the minutes stretched on, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his temple, your lips lingering against his skin. Conner responded with a barely audible hum of contentment, his arms tightening briefly around your waist before relaxing again.

"You want a massage?" you asked softly, your fingers threading gently through Conner's damp hair. His head rested heavily on your stomach, his body fully relaxed against yours, and the rhythmic motion of your hand seemed to ease away the tension he carried after his grueling mission. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing steady, and for a moment, it seemed like he might drift off completely.

He didn't reply right away, as if weighing the question or simply savoring the comfort of the moment. Then, slowly, a familiar smirk crept onto his lips—the kind that sent a shiver of anticipation through you every time you saw it. His ocean-blue eyes fluttered open, the corners crinkling with mischief as he tilted his head slightly to look up at you.

"Nah," he murmured, his voice low and edged with a playful undertone that made your heart skip a beat. "But I do have another idea."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, though your pulse quickened at the teasing glint in his eyes. "Oh? And what idea might that be, Mr. Kent?" you teased, your fingers momentarily pausing in his hair as you waited for his response.

Conner shifted lazily, propping himself up on his elbows so that he could get a better look at you. His smirk widened as his gaze swept over you, taking in the sight of you curled up on the bed, still wearing his oversized black T-shirt that fell just above your thighs. The amusement in his expression was almost predatory, his eyes darkening slightly as they met yours.

He didn't answer right away, letting the silence stretch. His hand moved with deliberate slowness, brushing against your thigh in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through you. His fingertips lingered, tracing idle patterns on your skin, the touch both teasing and intimate.

"Well," he drawled at last, his voice dipping into that deep, gravelly tone that always made your stomach flutter. "I was thinking..." He trailed off, leaning in closer, his face just inches from yours now. The smirk softened into something more tender but no less dangerous as his hand slid up your leg, his palm coming to rest firmly on your hip. "Maybe we could do something a little... more fun."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, a mix of nervous energy and anticipation. "More fun?" you echoed, your hands instinctively moving to his shoulders, your fingertips grazing the solid warmth of his muscles beneath his shirt. "And what exactly do you have in mind, Conner?"

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He leaned in even closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Why don't I show you?" he murmured, the suggestion laced with affection as much as mischief.

Before you could respond, he moved with effortless strength, his arms tightening around you as he shifted your positions in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised gasp as he flipped you onto your back, pinning you gently beneath him. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and the warmth of his body enveloped you as he braced himself above you.

His smirk was back, but there was a tenderness in his gaze now, a softness that made your breath catch. His hand remained on your hip, his thumb brushing gently over the fabric of the shirt you wore—his shirt. "You've been taking care of me all night," he said softly, his voice quieter now, laced with gratitude and something deeper. "I think it's my turn to take care of you."

Your heart raced as his lips found yours, the kiss starting slow, almost reverent. His mouth moved against yours with a tenderness that sent warmth blooming through your chest, but it didn't take long for the kiss to deepen. The passion that simmered beneath his calm exterior broke through, his lips pressing against yours more firmly, his hand sliding from your hip to the small of your back to pull you even closer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, still slightly damp from his shower, as you kissed him back with equal fervor. Every movement, every touch felt electric, the world narrowing to just the two of you. Conner's weight above you was grounding, his warmth seeping into you, his presence wrapping around you like a cocoon.

He broke the kiss just long enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours as his breath came uneven. His eyes, now darker with emotion, held a mixture of love and desire that made your heart swell. "You're all I need," he whispered, the words so soft you almost didn't hear them over the sound of your own pounding heartbeat.

You smiled, your hands sliding down to his shoulders as you pulled him back down for another kiss. "Then don't let me go," you murmured against his lips, your voice just as quiet but filled with all the affection you felt.

Conner didn't reply with words—he didn't need to. The way his arms wrapped around you, the way his lips moved against yours, the way he held you as though you were the most precious thing in the world—it all spoke louder than anything he could have said. And in that moment, with the warmth of him pressed against you and the world fading into the background, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

His rough, calloused fingers slid beneath the hem of the oversized black shirt you wore—his shirt, which hung on your frame like a dress. The fabric bunched slightly as his hands traveled upward, the contrast of his warm touch against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

His movements were unhurried, almost teasing, as though he wanted to savor every moment. His eyes stayed locked on yours, the intensity in his ocean-blue gaze making your breath hitch. When his fingers found the waistband of your underwear, he paused, his lips quirking into a playful smile as though silently asking for permission. The anticipation was electric, crackling in the air between you.

You nodded, barely able to contain the heat rising in your body. That was all the confirmation Conner needed. Slowly, he slid your underwear down, his fingers grazing your hips and thighs as he removed the final barrier between you. The sensation was maddeningly soft, yet charged with an undeniable intimacy that left you feeling completely exposed—and utterly desired.

As your underwear slipped away, Conner's hand trailed back up, his touch firm yet gentle as his fingers brushed against your dick. His palm enveloped you, his grip warm and steady, and the simple act sent a surge of pleasure coursing through you. His movements were slow at first, deliberate, as if he were mapping every inch of you, learning the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw before murmuring in a low, husky tone, "You're perfect, you know that?"

The words made your pulse race, your heart pounding in your chest. Conner's gaze softened, though the intensity never wavered, and his hand moved with practiced care, each touch sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. There was something deeply intimate about the moment—more than just the physical connection, it was the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world who mattered.

The shirt you wore—his shirt—slipped further up as he moved, exposing more of you to him. His free hand slid around your waist, holding you in place, anchoring you to him as his movements became more deliberate. The warmth of his touch, the weight of his body pressing against yours, and the sheer love in his gaze all combined to create a moment that felt nothing short of breathtaking.

"Conner..." you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as you felt yourself surrender completely to him. He smiled at the sound of your voice, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss that was as passionate as it was tender.

His hand moved with deliberate slowness, sliding up and down your dick in a rhythm that was maddeningly precise, designed to make you unravel beneath his touch. The heat of his palm, the strength of his grip—firm but never rough—had your body responding instinctively, arching slightly into his hand as your breath hitched.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his deep voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that made your entire body tremble.

"You're so hard for me," he murmured, his words laced with a teasing edge that sent a flush of heat straight to your cheeks. His tone was rough, raw with desire, but there was also a playful affection in the way he spoke, like he loved seeing how easily you came undone in his hands.

"Look at you," he continued, his voice like velvet, each word dripping with intent. His grip tightened slightly as he stroked you, the added pressure drawing a quiet moan from your lips. "You're so perfect like this—so needy. You like when I touch you, don't you?"

Your heart raced, your breaths coming faster as his words hit you like a spark to kindling. Conner's hand never faltered, moving in a steady rhythm that left you teetering on the edge of control. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear before continuing, his voice filled with a delicious mixture of command and tenderness.

"Every inch of you belongs to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin with every word. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

His free hand slid around your back, pulling you closer to him, as though he couldn't stand even a fraction of space between you. The heat of his body pressed against yours was overwhelming, and the way his words filled your ear—dirty, possessive, and utterly irresistible—made it impossible to focus on anything else.

"You're mine," he growled softly, the roughness in his voice sending another shiver down your spine. "And I'll make you feel so good you won't be able to think about anyone but me."

Every touch, every word, every deliberate stroke of his hand was a symphony of pleasure, building higher and higher until you felt like you might explode from the sheer intensity of it. Conner's lips brushed against your neck now, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as he whispered one final promise, his hand moving just a little faster, driving you closer to the brink.

"Let go for me," he murmured, his voice a mixture of command and reassurance. "I want to feel you completely lose control—just for me."

And with that, the overwhelming combination of his touch, his words, and his presence pushed you over the edge, your body surrendering completely to the man who held you like you were his entire world.

The tension in your body built to an almost unbearable peak, every nerve alight as Conner's skilled hand continued its deliberate rhythm. His grip, his pace, the heat of his touch—it was all too much and not enough at the same time. Your breath quickened, a series of soft gasps and quiet moans escaping your lips as you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.

Conner must have sensed it, because his lips found their way back to your ear, his voice a low, sultry murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "That's it," he whispered, his tone both commanding and tender. "Don't hold back. Let me feel you."

His words were your undoing. The tension coiled deep inside you snapped all at once, and you cried out softly, your body arching instinctively into his hand as you reached your climax. A rush of heat surged through you, and you felt yourself release, your hot seed spilling over his hand in a wave of pure, unrelenting ecstasy.

Conner didn't stop, his hand slowing just enough to draw out every last pulse of pleasure, his touch grounding you even as your mind reeled. His other arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer as your body trembled against his.

"That's it," he murmured again, his lips brushing against your neck now, pressing soft kisses to your heated skin. "You're so beautiful when you let go like that."

You couldn't form words, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you tried to steady yourself. Conner's touch became gentler, soothing now, his thumb brushing lightly along your hip as his free hand reached for a nearby cloth to clean you up. His movements were tender, his eyes filled with a quiet affection that made your chest ache.

As he finished, Conner leaned back slightly, his gaze meeting yours. The corners of his lips turned upward in a small, knowing smile, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You okay?" he asked softly, his voice steady and warm.

You nodded, still catching your breath, and managed a faint smile in return. "More than okay," you murmured, your voice laced with both exhaustion and contentment.

Conner chuckled, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. "Good," he said simply, his tone filled with quiet pride. "Because I'm not done spoiling you yet."

Suddenly, Conner had you straddling his waist, your thighs resting firmly on either side of his hips as his hands roamed over your body with an intensity that made your pulse race. His calloused palms gripped your ass firmly, fingers digging in just enough to leave a lingering warmth against your skin. The strength of his touch sent a shiver through you, a perfect mix of control and affection that made you feel completely consumed by him.

He shifted beneath you slightly, his muscles flexing under your weight as he adjusted your position to pull you even closer. His lips curled into a teasing smirk as his hands tightened on your backside, the possessiveness in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without warning, he raised one hand and brought it down with a sharp, deliberate smack against your ass.

The sudden sting was quickly followed by a rush of heat that spread through your body, the sound of the slap echoing in the room. You gasped softly, the mixture of surprise and pleasure making your body instinctively arch toward him. Conner's smirk grew wider, his ocean-blue eyes darkening with desire as he watched your reaction closely.

"You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a teasing edge that sent a thrill through you. Before you could respond, his hand came down again, another firm smack that made your skin tingle and your heart race. The way his strong hand lingered afterward, kneading the spot he had just struck, sent shivers down your spine.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as his other hand slid up your back, holding you steady. "You drive me crazy," he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with raw affection and desire. His breath was hot, his kisses deliberate as he nipped lightly at your neck before trailing his tongue along the sensitive area.

His hand on your ass delivered another firm smack, the impact sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "I could do this all night," he muttered, his tone both playful and commanding as his lips moved back to claim yours in a kiss that was as consuming as it was passionate. His grip on you remained firm, his hands alternating between soothing caresses and sharp, tantalizing slaps that kept your body tingling with anticipation.

Every movement, every touch, every deliberate action reminded you just how deeply Conner desired you, his actions a perfect blend of strength, passion, and unwavering affection.

Your body pressed firmly against Conner's, your fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as his lips claimed yours with a fiery intensity. The kiss was deep and unrelenting, filled with passion that made the rest of the world fade into insignificance. Conner's hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling you impossibly closer, as if the space between you was unacceptable.

A low moan escaped your lips, muffled against his, as the heat between you built to an overwhelming crescendo. You felt his lips curve into a small, satisfied smile against your mouth, his body reacting to every sound you made. Breaking the kiss for a brief moment, you tilted your head slightly to whisper in his ear, letting out another soft moan, the sound raw and unfiltered. His sharp intake of breath and the way his grip tightened on you told you exactly how much it affected him.

Just as Conner's lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving a path of slow, deliberate kisses, a loud knock echoed through the room, startling you both. The sound cut through the intimate atmosphere like a knife, and you felt Conner stiffen beneath you, his grip on your waist momentarily freezing.

A low growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he turned his head toward the door, his expression shifting into one of pure annoyance. Without letting go of you or breaking the connection between your bodies, he raised his voice, his tone sharp and commanding.

"Go away," Conner barked, the edge in his voice leaving no room for argument.

You couldn't help but smile at the irritation lacing his words, finding his reaction both protective and endearing. His attention shifted back to you almost instantly, his hands moving back to your hips as he resumed where he left off, his lips brushing against your neck now.

"They better not knock again," he muttered against your skin, his voice low and full of barely restrained frustration. The way his breath warmed your neck sent shivers down your spine, and the momentary interruption quickly melted away as Conner's focus returned entirely to you.

The knock may have broken the rhythm for a moment, but the intensity between you two reignited almost immediately, pulling you both back into the heat of the moment as if nothing had happened.

Conner's body was taut beneath you, every muscle coiled with tension as the heat between you both continued to build. His breaths came heavier, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands, and you could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against you. His arousal was evident, firm and insistent, a clear sign of just how much he wanted you.

The way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, left no room for doubt. Conner's smirk turned devilish as he shifted slightly beneath you, making you acutely aware of the growing pressure. "You're killing me," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire, his ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours with a gaze that felt like it could set you on fire.

As you shifted in his lap, the friction only made the tension between you more palpable. His arousal strained against the fabric of his pajamas, firm and ready to break free from its confines. The way his body reacted to every subtle movement of yours sent shivers of anticipation through you, and the intensity in his expression made it clear he wasn't planning on holding back much longer.

His hands slid up your thighs, his touch deliberate and teasing as his lips found their way to your neck once again. "You've got me ready to lose control," he whispered against your skin, his tone filled with equal parts affection and raw, unfiltered want. The promise in his voice was enough to make your heart race as you felt the full extent of his desire, firm and eager to join the moment.

Conner removed his hands from your body briefly, his gaze locked onto yours as he reached for the waistband of his pajamas. The tension in the air was almost palpable, each second feeling like an eternity as he slowly pushed both his pajamas and underwear down in one fluid motion. The fabric slid over his hips, revealing the taut, sculpted muscles of his lower body, every inch of his physique a testament to his raw strength.

And then, there it was—his dick sprang free, standing proudly, thick and fully erect. At nine inches, it was impossible to ignore, commanding attention with its sheer size and firmness. The sight alone sent a rush of heat through your body, making your breath catch in your throat. The way he exuded confidence, his body radiating a natural, effortless dominance, only added to the allure.

Conner's smirk widened slightly as he noticed your reaction, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and desire. He stepped closer, the tension in his movements now replaced with a sense of ease and purpose. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer as his body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin intoxicating.

"You've got me all worked up," he murmured, his deep voice low and teasing as his fingers brushed lightly against your sides. The weight of his dick against you was undeniable, a reminder of the intensity simmering between you two.

The moment was electric, the anticipation thick in the air and before you knew it, Conner's hands gripped your hips firmly, his touch grounding and steady as he positioned himself beneath you. The heat of his body pressed against yours, and his ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Every movement he made was deliberate, filled with purpose, as if he wanted to savor every moment leading up to this.

His dick, thick and pulsing with anticipation, rested heavily against you. You could feel its heat, its weight, as he shifted slightly, aligning himself with your entrance. The sheer size of him made you gasp softly, your body trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves. Conner's hands slid back up to your sides, his thumbs brushing soothing circles into your skin as he leaned in closer.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and full of reassurance. His lips found the curve of your jaw, pressing gentle kisses there as he adjusted his position. His dick pressed lightly against your ass now, the sensation sending a spark of heat through your body. The deliberate way he moved, slow and measured, showed how much care he was taking—not just to avoid rushing, but to ensure you were ready for him.

His gaze flicked back to yours, his blue eyes softened with affection but still darkened with desire. "Tell me if it's too much," he said softly, his hands tightening slightly on your hips as he aligned himself perfectly with your hole. The pressure was subtle at first, a promise of what was to come, but it was enough to make your breath hitch and your heart race.

Every touch, every movement felt charged with emotion as Conner held you steady, his body and his presence radiating both strength and tenderness. This was more than just physical—it was intimate, personal, a moment that seemed to transcend words as he prepared to join with you completely.

Your hands gripped Conner's strong shoulders for balance as you slowly began to move, your body adjusting to the fullness of him. The first motion was tentative, deliberate, as you raised yourself just slightly before sliding back down, taking him deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, every inch of him stretching and filling you in a way that made your breath hitch and your heart race.

Conner's hands remained firm on your hips as he guided your movements with subtle pressure, his touch a blend of control and encouragement. His ocean-blue eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze filled with both awe and desire as he watched you take him, inch by inch. The way his chest rose and fell with deep, uneven breaths told you he was holding back, letting you set the pace.

As you moved again, the motion became smoother, more confident. Slowly, you began to find a rhythm, rising up and sliding back down, feeling every ridge and curve of him as you did. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through your body, building steadily with each motion. Conner's low groan rumbled through the air, his fingers digging into your hips just enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"You feel so good," Conner murmured, his voice rough and filled with raw emotion. His head tilted back slightly, exposing the strong line of his jaw, but his eyes never left you. His hands began to move with you, guiding your rhythm as you continued to ride him, the intensity between you growing with every passing moment.

The connection between you was electric, every touch, every motion building a tension that seemed to radiate through the room. Conner's quiet groans and whispered encouragements spurred you on, his voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace as you continued to move together in perfect harmony.

Soon Conner's fingers pressed into your skin just enough to ground you. You could feel the subtle shift in his energy, his need to guide you taking over as his hands began to set a rhythm, slowly increasing your pace.

"Let me take care of you," Conner murmured, his voice low and husky, filled with both affection and desire. His eyes met yours, their ocean-blue depths darkened with passion, and the look he gave you made your breath catch. His grip on your waist tightened slightly as he moved you, raising your body just enough before lowering you back down onto him, the deliberate motion making you take him deeper.

The change in pace was subtle at first, his guidance smooth and controlled, but you could feel his need building with each motion. His powerful hands worked in perfect synchronization with your body, lifting and guiding you to move faster, the rhythm between you becoming more intense. The sensation of him filling you completely, again and again, was almost overwhelming, pleasure radiating through you with every movement.

"You feel so damn good," Conner groaned, his voice roughened by the sheer intensity of the moment. His hands slid slightly up your waist, his thumbs brushing against your ribs as he continued to guide you, his strength making the faster pace feel effortless. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by his soft groans and your quiet moans, the connection between you electric and all-consuming.

As he urged you to go faster, his own hips began to rise slightly to meet your movements, the added force sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His head tilted back slightly, his lips parting as he let out a deep, guttural moan that made your heart race. His hands never faltered, holding you steady and ensuring every movement brought you both closer to the edge.

"Just like that," Conner whispered, his voice dripping with both encouragement and need. The rhythm between you built steadily, the intensity growing with every second as his hands guided you faster, harder, deeper. The room seemed to blur around you, leaving only the feeling of him beneath you, his touch on your skin, and the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you both.

Before you could fully register the shift, Conner's strong hands moved with purpose, gripping your hips as he adjusted his angle. In one fluid motion, he leaned forward, gently pushing you onto your back while still buried deep inside you. The sheer strength and control of his movements sent a shiver through your body, the sudden change in position amplifying the intensity of your connection.

Your back pressed against the mattress as Conner hovered over you, his broad shoulders and sculpted frame casting a shadow over you. His hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he repositioned himself, adjusting his angle with precision. His piercing blue eyes met yours, the intensity in his gaze stealing your breath.

"Hold on to me," he murmured, his voice low and filled with both command and affection. The sound sent a jolt of heat straight through you, and without thinking, your hands found their way to his back, your fingers digging into his firm muscles.

Conner's hips began to move again, the deliberate thrusts sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, each motion hitting places that left you gasping. His pace was steady at first, a mix of controlled power and tenderness, as if he wanted to savor every moment of being this close to you. His gaze never wavered, watching your every reaction as if committing them to memory.

"Damn," he groaned, his voice rough with desire as his hands slid along your thighs, pulling you closer to him. His thrusts grew faster, his hips meeting yours with increasing urgency as he surrendered to the intensity building between you. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by the deep, guttural groans that escaped his lips and the breathless moans spilling from yours.

His head dipped lower, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses to your heated skin. The combination of his movements and the sensation of his warm breath against your neck left you completely overwhelmed, your body arching beneath him in response. His hands slid up to your waist, holding you steady as his rhythm became more forceful, his need for you evident in every deliberate thrust.

Each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The room felt electric, every nerve in your body alight as he drove deeper into you, his hips moving with an unrelenting pace. Your breath hitched, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders for stability, but nothing could ground you against the overwhelming sensations.

"Conner..." you moaned, his name spilling from your lips without thought, raw and filled with the intensity of everything he was making you feel. Your voice trembled, the sound echoing in the heated air between you. The way his name left your lips seemed to spark something in him, his movements becoming even more deliberate, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

Hearing you call his name made Conner groan deeply, his breath warm and heavy as he leaned closer, his body pressing against yours. His blue eyes darkened with desire, locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. "Say it again," he growled softly, his voice low and filled with a mix of command and need.

"Conner," you gasped again, louder this time, the sound unfiltered as the heat between you built to an almost unbearable peak. His hands tightened on your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you closer, his thrusts coming faster now, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your body arched beneath him, completely at his mercy as his name tumbled from your lips over and over, a desperate chant that only seemed to spur him on.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice thick and ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Let me hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His pace quickened even more, his hips moving with a raw, unrelenting passion that left you clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sounds of his groans, the slap of skin against skin, and your own voice calling his name filled the room, a symphony of unrestrained desire as he drove you both closer to the edge. Conner's strength, his control, and the sheer depth of his connection to you left you completely undone, your moans of his name the only thing you could manage as he pushed you to heights you'd never imagined.

The pleasure built inside you, overwhelming and unstoppable, as Conner's relentless pace drove you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tensed, your breath hitching sharply as you felt the rising heat coil deep within you, ready to burst. Each thrust sent another jolt of pleasure through you, the intensity mounting until you couldn't hold back any longer.

With a sharp cry of his name, you surrendered completely, your body arching against him as you released. A stream of your hot seed spilled out, the sensation crashing over you like a tidal wave. The release was overwhelming, leaving your mind blank and your body trembling in his grasp. Your nails dug into Conner's shoulders, your moans spilling freely from your lips as the waves of pleasure rippled through you, one after another.

Conner groaned deeply, his breath ragged as he held you steady, his strong hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. His eyes flickered down to take in the sight of you completely undone beneath him, your chest heaving, your cheeks flushed, and your release marking the moment with undeniable evidence of the connection you shared.

"You're so damn handsome," he murmured, his voice low and full of awe as his pace slowed slightly, letting you ride out the final tremors of your climax. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he continued to move within you, savoring the closeness and the heat radiating between your bodies.

The moment felt infinite, your body still trembling from the force of your release as Conner's steady presence anchored you. His lips brushed against your cheek, his hands gently caressing your sides as he whispered, "We're not done yet." The promise in his voice sent another shiver through you, and despite the blissful exhaustion settling in, you couldn't help but crave more.

Suddenly, Conner's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin as he buried himself deeper inside you. His thrusts became faster, harder, and more relentless, the sheer power behind them taking your breath away. It was as though he'd reached a breaking point, his self-control unraveling as he chased his own release with an intensity that left you completely at his mercy.

"God, you feel so good," Conner growled, his voice rough and strained, each word punctuated by the force of his movements. His head dipped down, his lips finding the crook of your neck as he kissed and nipped at your skin, his breath hot and uneven against you. The sounds he made—deep, guttural groans that seemed to come from deep within his chest—only added to the electricity crackling between you.

Your body rocked with every thrust, the sheer power of his movements sending waves of pleasure coursing through you all over again. His pace was unrelenting, his hips snapping forward as he lost himself completely in the moment, his need for you driving him into overdrive. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of your bodies moving together, accompanied by his moans and your breathless gasps, the air thick with heat and passion.

Conner's grip on you became almost desperate as his pace quickened even more, his thrusts deep and hard, pushing both of you to the brink. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled beneath your hands as he reached his limit. His breath came in ragged gasps, his groans growing louder and more primal with each thrust.

"Can't hold it anymore," Conner growled, his voice rough and raw as he thrust into you one final time, burying himself as deeply as he could. His body tensed, and with a low, guttural moan, he released, a hot surge of his seed spilling inside you. The heat of it sent a shiver through your body, the sensation overwhelming as you felt every pulse of his release.

Conner stayed buried inside you, his body trembling slightly as he let out a long, shuddering breath. His arms slid around you, pulling you close as he rested his forehead against yours, his ocean-blue eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and satisfaction.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with a quiet reverence as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. His hands moved to caress your sides, his touch soothing as you both basked in the afterglow, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and utterly content in each other's arms.

After a moment of stillness, Conner let out a deep, contented sigh and slowly pulled out of you, his movements gentle and careful. The absence of him left a mix of relief and longing, but his warm presence remained as he immediately shifted closer, wrapping his strong arms around you. The weight of his body against yours and the soothing rhythm of his breathing anchored you in the moment, bringing a quiet sense of comfort and safety.

He pulled the blanket over the both of you, tucking it snugly around your shoulders as you nestled into his chest. His fingers traced idle patterns along your back, a tender gesture that made your body relax further into his embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, combined with the warmth of his skin, lulled you into a state of pure tranquility. Your eyes grew heavier, the exhaustion from the intensity of the moment pulling you closer to sleep.

Just as your breaths started to slow, the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock at the door. The sound startled you awake, and you felt Conner stiffen beside you, his body instantly alert. His protective instincts kicked in immediately, and without a word, he reached for the blanket, pulling it up to cover you completely before sliding out of bed.

"Stay here," he murmured softly, his voice low and reassuring as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. He grabbed his boxers from the floor, slipping them on with practiced ease before making his way to the door. His movements were fluid but purposeful, his broad shoulders and muscular frame silhouetted in the dim light as he approached.

Conner placed a hand on the doorknob, pausing for a brief moment to glance back at you. His expression softened when he saw you peeking out from beneath the covers, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the door.

Conner cracked the door open just enough to see who was on the other side, his body positioned to block the view of the room. When he saw M'gann standing there, her expression bright and hopeful, he let out a quiet sigh, his irritation easing into polite patience.

"Conner," M'gann said, her tone light and cheerful as she leaned slightly into the doorway. "We're all about to sit down for dinner. I thought maybe you'd want to join us?"

Conner glanced back toward the bed for a brief moment, his protective instincts kicking in as he ensured you were still tucked away and comfortable. Then, turning back to M'gann, he gave her a polite but firm smile. "Thanks, M'gann, but I'm going to pass tonight," he said, his voice calm and even. "I've already got plans."

M'gann's expression faltered slightly, the smile on her face tightening for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered. "Oh... okay," she said, trying to keep her tone casual. "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, maybe," Conner replied, his tone kind but noncommittal as he gently closed the door. He stood there for a moment, letting out a small sigh before turning back toward you, his expression softening the instant his gaze landed on you.

Sliding back under the covers, Conner wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you close against his chest. "Sorry about that," he muttered, his voice low and soothing as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "Now, where were we?"

You smiled sleepily, your head resting against his chest as you let the warmth of his embrace pull you back into the peaceful haze of sleep. "Right here," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Conner chuckled lightly, his grip on you tightening just enough to remind you that you were safe and loved. "Exactly," he said, his tone filled with quiet affection. "Just us. Always." And with that, the world faded away again, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his arms as you drifted back into sleep.

[elysianightsss]

I BURN FOR YOU | PART TWO

You were so immersed in reading when Belle begins to fall in love with the beast that you didn’t even hear the library door slowly creak open…

“Duchess.” Johnny’s thick accent makes you jump a little, your puffy eyes flicking up to meet his. He stood there unsure of himself as he did his best to fake a smile your way. “Is everything alright? You’re up awfully late.”

“As are you.” You raise a brow, a small smirk taking hold.

“I well yes…yes well I-“ what was he going to say? Simon had tasked him to find you when the Duke had knocked on your door a moment ago to check on you and then absolutely lost it when you weren’t there. Or, “your husband is looking for you.”

“Tell him to keep looking. He can find me himself if he needs me so desperately.” You scoff, half laugh at the absurdity of that statement alone. You couldn’t care less if that man was looking for you.

“Um it’s, he’s a little frantic.” Johnny tries to reason with you without letting on how much Simon had panicked that you’d fled. After hearing your cries ring throughout the hallways he couldn’t help but feel guilty coming to your room to apologise only for no one to answer.

“And?” You question, the lack of care so obvious in your voice. Closing your book and placing it on the candle lit end table, you stand. Johnny was unsure of what else to say so he settled for offering his arm like he had when you had first met to escort you to your room.

You had accepted and let the Scotsman lead you out the library and down the hallway where low and behold you ran into the Duke of Manchester himself.

The first thing you notice is how casual he looked. Tucked into black slacks, a sleep shirt with the front untied showing the light brown curls of hair on his chest. His under knee boots clean and still on as well as a dark red cloak with no hood. Maybe a matching set with your robe? A wedding present you didn’t know about perhaps?

“Your Grace.” Johnny had unlinked his arm from yours and bowed to your husband who had a bit of mania colouring his eyes.

“Where have you been?” He spat his tone, of what you could tell, was worry making your eyes widen in surprise.

“The library.” Your voice was much smaller than you’d like. You straightened your stance and fired back much like you had earlier, “What’s it to you?”

“You’re my wife therefore I’m inclined to know of your whereabouts.” He grunted, taking a step closer to you.

“Like this is an actual marriage.” You muttered under your breath but clearly not quiet enough as both Simon and Johnny heard, their gazes burning holes into your head.

“This is an actual marriage. Last I checked not only was my signature on our marriage license but yours as well.” Simon’s large shoulders were squared and tense as he again took another step forward.

“Like I had a choice in the matter! And now I’m stuck in a big old house with a man who doesn’t love me or cherish me or even want me! And in three months I will be all alone, no husband, no children. And again none of it is my choice!” You screech out of breath and panting after shouting in your husband’s face.

Simon’s brows were raised, lips parted in shock, the expression almost had you laughing but in this moment all you could feel was anger. Angry at the position you were in, angry at the man in front of you, angry at yourself for having verbal diarrhoea.

You couldn’t stand it anymore, you stormed passed him finished with the ridiculous conversation. Simon still in shock, let you go.

Waking the next day was humbling, you felt hot to touch and groggy as you stumbled into the morning room sitting down unsteadily to eat your breakfast. Simon watched you with careful and guarded eyes.

Silence once again blanketed the room. You glance over to see his plate full, he had waited for you and if the way he’s tearing into his food said anything he must have been starving. He had never waited for you before.

Shrugging you picked up a fork and begin to eat some of the fresh fruit in front of you, though you only got a few bites in and began to feel sick. Simon mimicked your moves, setting down his cutlery when you did. “What is it?” He casually threw your way, it was impatient with the need to continue eating.

“I’m feeling a little under the weather is all.” You say standing from your seat, Simon once again copies. The chair screeching as it moves when he stands, he almost rushes to you to place his large hands to your forehead and cheek.

He frowns at what he finds, “Johnny!” You flinch at how loud he shouts his voice echoing in the room, Johnny comes running his head peaking into the room with a questionable gaze. “Send for Doctor Garrick immediately.” Johnny’s eyes widen as they flicker to you and Simon’s hands on your face.

You push them away with a shake of your head, “Don’t be dramatic Simon, I’m fine. Some more sleep will send it away.” You stand firm but your husband’s frown deepens.

“I am not dramatic.” He defends, but it sounds like a child arguing. It makes you scoff. Simon raises a brow and brings his hand up to pinch your cheek something that makes you blush. Where had the cold arse of a man gone? Since when did your husband pinch your cheek or make you blush?

You push Simon away, a big push, your hand against his shoulder but he barely moves, doesn’t even flinch. It only hits now how big and muscular your husband is, how strong he is. But it only gives you another reason to be disappointed that he’s not really yours.

“So is that a yes or no for the Doctor?” Johnny asks and before you can argue no, Simon is already saying yes. You simply huff with a roll of your eyes and leave the room.

The Doctor comes and unfortunately for your ego, you’re feeling worse in the evening when the man arrives than you had been at breakfast. He’s a handsome man with kind eyes, he takes your temperature and does some other tests before concluding you’ve over exerted yourself. You’re instantly arguing you haven’t been doing anything that could make that possible. You completely miss the side eye he gives Simon at the implication you haven’t been doing what couples usually do on their honeymoon.

Kyle, which he asks you to call him, goes through other ways this could be possible. Stress being a big factor, at this you fall silent. Simon is hovering in the corner of the cozy room, he had fluffed the pillow on the chair you sat in and lit the fire so it would be warm for you. Even going as far as to fetch you a blanket for extra comfort. You wonder, did your shouting really make him change over night?

“I’d like you to rest and avoid stress. Wouldn’t want you ending up with a cold or worse the flu. Even with medicine making its advances, there wouldn’t be anything I could give you for you to survive those.” Kyle says in an unemotional and practical manner. He bows to you and nods to Simon before leaving. Your eyes drift over to the hulking man stood in the corner, he has a smugness in his eyes but it doesn’t match the worried expression that’s been plastered on his face since you said you felt under the weather this morning.

“So,” you begin awkwardly, it makes Simon step forward closer to where you’re sat in the comfortable arm chair in front of the fireplace. The orange hue flickers over the both of you bathing you in a sweetness. “I suppose if I must avoid stress, I must avoid you hmm?” You joke trying to lighten the mood.

Simon smirks slightly, his hand coming to rest on the edge of the fireplace mantle. “I think it simply means no more fighting me.” He offers his own joke, a small smile pulling at your lips to which he matches. There’s a tension between you two you haven’t felt before, his brown eyes flicker to your lips something that has you instinctively biting your lower lip.

His eyes meet yours and for a moment you believe he’s going to leap forward and kiss you. There’s electricity in the air, it crackles around you and pulses in a way that has your chest rising and falling a little quicker than usual. Simon’s left foot shuffles forward and like he’s fighting his own body the rest of him refuses to move.

“Fighting you is kind of fun though.” You reply, your little tit for tat banter building, “sometimes.” You add but Simon is already grinning, looking as though what you said is the best piece of information he’s ever retained.

“I do like you when you’re feisty.” He replies. Before you get a chance to fully take in what’s been said, Johnny comes through the door.

“Your graces,” he bows to you both.

“What is it Johnny?” Simon’s grin is gone, replaced with a thick frown. He seems annoyed to have been interrupted, you think to yourself. Again a blush rises on your cheeks and ears.

“You have received an invitation to the Price Ball tomorrow night.” He informs you both.

“Ah. Right, John said his new Viscountess was planning one.” Simon nods, running a hand over the stubble growing on the lower half of his face. It made him look a little rough but you sort of liked it better than when he was clean shaven. “Reply back that we will attend only if the Duchess is feeling better.” Johnny nods and leaves.

Simon said a week into your marriage that whatever Ton event that was being thrown during this London season you would both have to attend no matter what and now he’s making exceptions and excuses to his close friend for you?

“Hey.” Simon catches your attention, his voice soft and he crouches next to the chair. His eyes search yours for a reason as to why you look upset, it’s as if he wants to find the culprit and destroy it. That maybe be pushing it a little but it’s the vibe he’s giving off.

You just stare at him for a moment before you speak, “I don’t understand why you’re being so nice.” You make sure your voice is quiet, the question feeling unsafe to say out loud.

Simon looks down, a shuddering breath making its way out. It surprises you as much as his answer does, “I don’t want to be alone either.” It’s mumbled but very clear.

“What?”

He snaps his head up, eyes locking with yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before. “When the next two months are over, you’re going to stay with me and it’s going to be your choice this time.” Simon takes a hold of your hand, kissing the top of it before holding it in between the both of his.

“I will make every effort to make it so darling.”

To be continued…

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[atzhrts]

I'm starting to think that I have something for boobs, because I was a little lost in thoughts and suddenly I had a vision of Eunseok or Sungchan IN LOVE with your books.

And when I imagine a very sensitive and crying girlfriend it makes me even more crazy, because I KNOW that how much Eunseok would play with your buttons is a joke, he would make your nipples like a video game controller and he would squeeze and pull, bite and spit all to see you trembeling because of him, and I also think that Sungchan would like to play but only until you start begging for more, because after leaving you turned on he would remember that he has an appointment and leave you crying in bed with your nipple so hard that you would cry in disbelief, begging for him to nut on your boobs :(

really convenient because i do have a things for boobs, they’re so pretty i love them :(

i can see eunseok just casually playing with your boobs whenever he needs to focus on something, telling you to get naked while he sits down at his desk, completely clothed. making you sit on his lap, his front pressed to your back as his eyes focus on his laptop and his hands lazily grope your boobs. and the more focused he gets the harder he squeezes your nipples, leaving them red and swollen as you toss and turn in your boyfriends lap. but your moans and whines fall on deaf ears, it’s not that he wouldn’t want to give his babygirl what she needs but he seriously does not pay any attention to you and your state at all, was too lost in his work.

sungchan loves to hear you beg for him it makes him go crazy. he would never just fuck you or give you his fingers without you asking at least once, preferably so many times that you get all whiny and desperate. but when you were really bratty and refused to ask for what you wanted he will resort to playing with your boobs, lips wrapped around your nipple as his tongue flicks over it. he already coaxed three „please fuck me channie“ out of you before his phone pings, his calendar sending him a reminder of a schedule he can’t miss. resulting in you trying to recreate the feeling of sungchans fingers on your nipples while he talks you through it, telling you how good you’re doing with a hushed voice not wanting to let his driver know what the two of you are doing.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Could I request Benny x female reader where they engage in mutual masturbation and they make out throughout?

Touch

Pairing: Benny Miller x best friend f!reader

Word Count: 1900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. This was a hot ask. I'll admit, I had to think on this one a bit (and that was mostly staring at the wall). A huge thanks to @mermaidxatxheart as usual for listening to my Ted Talks and insecurities.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“The date went bad I take it?” Benny’s eyebrows are raised as he motions for me to come inside his apartment. He closes the door behind me as I huff.

“He kept taking out his phone and texting. His mom. He was giving her a play by play of our date.”

Benny chuckled. “What? During your date?”

I kick off my heels and set them on his shoe mat. “I’m all for strong family bonds, but maybe wait until after the date? I could barely talk to him. It was literally every 2 minutes.”

Benny chuckled again. “Well I’m sorry it sucked. You’re welcome to come finish this terrible movie I’m watching.”

I follow Benny to his couch, plopping down next to him. We’d been best friends for years. He was always someone I could count on to be there for me, good or bad. He never judged or questioned me, but somehow always seemed to have an answer to my problems. He hands me a drink and offers me some popcorn from the giant bowl in his lap. I grab a handful and watch whatever b horror movie is on the tv. 

“Ugh even the ugly ass monster in this bad movie is getting laid why can’t I?”

Benny coughs, choking a little on his popcorn. “What?”

Fuck, I said that out loud. 

“I uh…nothing.”

He takes a swig from his drink, clearing the last of the popcorn. “Afraid no one will touch you again?”

I groan, but I’m also desperate for advice. “No. Well…maybe. It’s not even sex. I just want someone to touch me again. Someone that’s not me or Henry Cavill.”

Benny laughs, his head flying back. “You know Henry Cavill?”

I can feel the heat on my cheeks, but I’ve already said it. “That’s…that’s the name of my vibrator.” His laughter is contagious and I can’t stop myself from smiling. He makes some quips about it and then something happens in the movie that captures our attention. 

“I can help you with that if you’d like.”

My head snaps in his direction. “What?” Did he just offer to…surely not.

He turns his head, his bright blue eyes boring into mine, a sparkle in them. “I can help you with your problem.”

Heat burns my cheeks and I’m grasping at words. Surely he doesn’t mean…he can’t…without thinking, I glance down at his hands, the grip on his bottle, and how small it looks in them. I swallow hard.

“Ben, be serious.”

He leans forward, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he places his bottle on the coffee table before sitting back, casually laying an arm across the back of the couch as if he didn’t just suggest shoving his hand down my pants. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart. Look, you’ve had a really rough go of it. And I would make sure you were taken care of. You’re too pent up. Let some steam out.”

I shift slightly in my seat, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. It’s not that I’ve never thought about it. Benny is extremely attractive. I just never would ever think he’d be ok with that with me. For me? I can’t even think. 

“Ben…I can’t lose your friendship. That would break me.”

He extends a long finger from the hand that’s across the back of the couch and pokes my head. “Do you think I’d ever let that happen?”

I swat at his hand out of reflex. “Is that something we could control though?”

He thinks for a moment. “It’s us. We’re best friends. We take care of each other. I think we’d be fine.”

“But what if it changes everything?”

He takes my hand in his large one, completely engulfing me. He looks into my eyes and does that thing where his eyebrows pull together and makes me melt. “I promise to not let it change the way I feel about you. Do you promise?”

Could I make that promise? The not-so-minor crush I’ve harbored for him for years is begging. Your feelings won’t change because you already like him. 

“How would…I mean, what would you…”

Benny shifts to face me better. “I’d touch you however you need me to. Maybe make out a little bit if you need to be distracted.”

I press my thighs together, hoping that he didn’t notice. But judging by the way he shifts and his eyes darken slightly, I think he very much noticed. Pressing my thighs together did nothing to quell the heat, my body begging me to just let me be touched. I feel safe with Benny and I know he’d never cross a line. My skin is hot thinking about it and I finally cave, promising myself that we’d still be friends. Just friends that gave each other a hand sometimes. 

Before I can talk myself out of it, I nod, moving to undo the button on my pants. Benny reaches out and stills my hand with his own and I look up at him.

“I need you to say it out loud, sweetheart.”

I swallow hard, trying my best to give him eye contact. Were his eyes always so blue? 

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what? I need specifics.”

I let out a huff and this fucker chuckles. “Touch me, Benny. I..want you to touch me.”

Benny scoots closer to me on the couch, his leg pressed against mine. His large hand cups my cheek as he dips his head close to mine, his breath puffing out over my face, fanning the anticipatory fire between my thighs. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers. 

“Yes.” 

I barely get it out before his lips are on mine, soft but guiding, his tongue gently probing at my lips. I open them and his tongue slides inside my mouth, gracefully dancing with my own as he moans slightly into me. Both of his hands are on my face now, cupping my cheeks as he continues to kiss me. Then one moves to the back of my head, slightly gripping my hair as he tips my head back, exposing my neck to him. I gasp as his teeth skirt along my skin, gently nipping and kissing along my pulse point. The hand that isn’t entangled in my hair starts to glide down my body, barely even fumbling as he unbuttons my pants. But he doesn’t touch me. Not yet. Over my jeans, he caresses my inner thighs as I spread my legs, tracing the line where my underwear sits, up and down, up and down, driving me mad. My heart is racing, pounding against my ears. I feel him pause just above my mound and I want to cry. 

“Can you slide your pants off for me?” He breathes into my ear. My hands fumble as I try to shove and kick my pants off, ignoring the smirk on Benny’s face as the pants land somewhere across the room. 

“Panties too. Promise I won’t look.” He covers his face, a large gap between his fingers where his eye is obviously looking out. 

“Don’t you need to see?”

He closes the gap in his fingers but keeps his eyes covered. “Nope. Your sounds will guide me to where I need to be.”

Fuck. Me.

I toss my underwear somewhere by my pants. “Ok I’m-”

I have no time to think because he’s back on me, kissing me hard, like he’s never needed anything so bad. My fingers tangle in his hair, the cool air from his apartment hitting my bare skin, but I don’t care. Benny’s large hand is on my inner thighs again, tracing circles, but also pushing them open. I keep them where he leaves them, my body practically shaking with anticipation.

One long finger slides down me and I jolt, my thighs trying to close, but he pushes them back open before resuming his touch. He slides all the way down to my entrance, gently tracing circles there and I gasp, my eyes still closed as I let myself get lost in his touch. Our foreheads are pressed together, his own breaths coming out a little more ragged as he drags his dampened finger back up me, pausing when my legs jump. He takes his time at this spot, small circles across my clit, fast and slow, fast and slow, my breaths coming out in small, fast pants. 

He slows his movements, gently pushing a finger inside me. I moan, louder as he pulls out and adds a second finger, curling them inside of me as he moves them in and out. One spot has me gasping his name and that’s where he stays, curling and rubbing inside of me as his thumb resumes circling my clit, slow and fast, gentle and harder, the pressure building quick and fast. I grip his wrist and he stills. 

“Can I touch you? I want you to come with me.”

He nods and I move my hand over and undo his button, sliding his zipper down gently. He’s already hard, straining against his boxers. I lower them enough for him to spring free and he grunts. I grip his wrist again and pull his hand out of me with a whimper, but then slide him back in and out, fucking myself with his hand a few times as he moans in my ear. Then I take his wet hand and rub it against my palm, dropping his hand back on me before gripping him with my slicked hand. He whimpers, swearing under his breath before he pushes his fingers inside me again, immediately resuming the slow curling and rubbing, his thumb pressing gently on my clit. I slowly work him up and down, squeezing harder and softer, matching my pace to his. He kisses me hard but then breaks it, our foreheads pressed together as we pant and moan. 

In some super move, he pushes me onto my back, his hand still firmly working me over, my legs spread wide as he settles between them, fucking his hips into my hand. His arm strains next to me as he holds himself up, curling his fingers a little deeper, swirling a little more and I can’t hold back anymore. I cum, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, my legs twitching as I pulse around his fingers. Another few presses of his hips and Benny grunts, small pants coming from him as he spills himself over my stomach, my shirt hiked up to my chest. We stay like that for several long moments, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His eyes open and meet mine, holding my gaze for a moment before he blinks, pulling his hand from me as he sits up. He tucks himself back in as he looks around, shrugs, then reaches behind him and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He drops his shirt on my cunt, using the sleeve to clean off my stomach, to hold up his promise of not looking. He glances down and picks up my underwear and pants, handing them to me as he turns his head away. I make sure I’m cleaned off before getting dressed, sitting back down on the couch, the movie still playing on in the background. Minutes pass in silence between us, my stomach twisting in knots with every passing second. 

Benny clears his throat. “So…are we never talking about this again or can I finally take you on a date?”

My eyes snap up to him, his already on me. There’s no pressure here, he’d be ok if I said we’re never talking about it again. But that’s not what I want. 

“Just so long as we can have dessert at home.”

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[istoleyoursphenoidbone]

Would You Fall In Love With Me Again?

DPxDC (With a smidgen of Epic the Musical)

Okay, so yall really liked my last one (and thanks to all of you, I'm glad you guys enjoyed). I wanted to try my hand again and see how this goes, idk about you guys, but Epic the Musical has been my soundtrack for weeks now, and the Ithaca Saga has my heart so...Husbands!Danny and Jason torn apart due to bad resurrection? Why not.

Warning for referenced character death and blood mention, nothing too graphic, tho. Pit Rage makes people do questionable things, ya know?

The Justice League's meeting room was cloaked in unnatural shadows, the atmosphere thick with tension, like the heavy silence before a storm. A team from Justice League Dark stood in the center, preparing for a ritual. Zatanna, her voice a whispered incantation, traced glowing glyphs onto the marble floor. Constantine, who had been trying to tell them all this would be a bad idea, leaned against the wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips despite the no-smoking signs, while Doctor Fate floated nearby, his ethereal presence a calm amid the chaos.

Batman stood at the edge of the circle, arms crossed. He hated magic—always had—but these were desperate times. Jason Todd, the Red Hood, had been spiraling for months. His vendetta against Gotham’s Rogues had left behind a trail of bodies, destruction, and secrets too dangerous to let slip. But it was more than just Jason’s rage. Strange energy readings tied to the Infinite Realms had begun to swirl around his every move. Whatever connection Jason had to that otherworldly dimension had become unstable, and they needed answers—answers only the Ghost King could provide.

“Are we ready?” Batman’s voice cut through the room. Zatanna nodded, stepping back as the last glyph flared to life. “The summoning spell is complete. Brace yourselves. This entity isn’t like anything we’ve dealt with before.” Constantine snorted, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “Ain’t that just bloody reassuring.”

The air split with a deafening crack, and green light spiraled upward, forming a vortex. From it stepped a figure draped in black armor, a faint crown glowing above his head, his eyes burning with an eerie green light. Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, stood before them. "Who dares to summon the High King of the Infinite Realms?" His voice carried an unearthly echo, a stark contrast to the mortal men and women in the room.

Constantine muttered something under his breath—likely a curse—but Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice steady. “We require your assistance, Ghost King. There’s a man, the Red Hood, aka Jason Todd, whose actions have drawn the attention of both our realm and yours.” Danny’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “Jason Todd?” Batman stepped forward, his voice rough but resolute. “He’s my son.”

Danny’s gaze snapped to him, the glowing green light flickering with intensity. “Your son,” he repeated, his tone colder now, sharper. Zatanna stepped in to explain, her voice calm but urgent. “Jason is targeting Gotham’s Rogues, several have been killed. But it seems he has a connection to the Infinite Realms. His ectoplasmic energy is spiking. We believe he’s drawing power from your domain, whether he knows it or not.” Danny’s expression darkened, and his voice dropped to a low, almost imperceptible growl. “And you want me to stop him.”

“Not stop,” Wonder Woman corrected gently. “Help. If he’s tied to your realm, we need to understand why—and how to sever that connection, if necessary.” Danny stood motionless, the green light in his eyes flickering with a mix of emotions none of them could decipher. After a long moment, he nodded, sharp and final. “I’ll handle it. Alone.” Batman started to protest, but Danny cut him off with a steady gaze, his voice softening, just a fraction. “You’ve done your part. Let me do mine.” Without waiting for a response, Danny turned and stepped back into the swirling portal, leaving the Justice League in a heavy, uneasy silence.

---

The Infinite Realms churned around Danny as he passed through the portal, an energy that mirrored the restlessness gnawing at his heart. When he had been summoned, he had expected a crisis—another rift in the realms or a rogue spirit threatening the balance, hell even just cultists trying to mess with the order of things again. What he hadn’t expected was to be summoned to deal with him.

Jason...his sweet and loving Jason.

As the portal closed behind him, Danny heard Batman’s grim explanation echo in his mind: Red Hood was spiraling. He’d already killed Joker, Riddler, and Two-Face. And it seemed like Penguin was next. The Pit Rage had taken hold, and no one—least of all Bruce—had been able to pull Jason from the edge. The Justice League had turned to him because the energy Jason radiated had drawn their attention to the Infinite Realms.

It had been twenty years since Jason disappeared from the Realms—twenty long years since Danny had watched his husband, the man he had married in death, pulled from his side and resurrected in the mortal world. For Danny, it felt like an eternity.

As Danny emerged from the portal into Gotham’s shadowed streets, the oppressive energy in the air pulled at him, thick with Jason’s rage. He could feel the ectoplasmic aura that surrounded him, like a storm cloud about to break. But more than that, Danny could feel the familiar tug of Jason’s presence. It was raw, chaotic—lost.

And Danny? He was all too familiar with being lost.

There was no turning back now. Jason was out there, a tempest of pain and blood, and Danny couldn’t stop the wave of dread that surged through him. This was his husband—the man he had fallen in love with, over and over again—and now he was out of control.

Danny’s eyes glowed as he moved deeper into the city, knowing that whatever happened next, he wouldn’t be alone in facing it. Not this time. Jason Todd stood among the wreckage of a smuggling ring’s hideout. The docks were eerily silent except for the gentle lap of water against the pier. Blood slicked his gloved hands, and his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. The Pit Rage roared in his ears, demanding more—more destruction, more vengeance, and more blood.

The ghostly glow appeared behind him, and Jason spun, guns drawn. The figure emerging from the green light made him falter.

Danny.

Jason blinked, the haze of rage momentarily thinning. He couldn’t trust his eyes, not after everything. But the way Danny looked at him—with love, pain, and something infinite in his glowing green eyes—cut through Jason’s defenses. “Jason,” Danny said softly, his voice trembling but steady. Jason lowered his guns, his shoulders slumping. “Danny?”

Danny stepped closer, his glowing cape billowing behind him. “It’s been twenty years.” Jason flinched. “Eight.” His voice cracked. “Only eight here.” Danny’s eyes softened. “It felt like forever.” Jason staggered back, shaking his head. “I’m not—” He gestured at the blood staining his armor. “I’m not who I was. You shouldn’t be here.”

Danny reached out but didn’t touch him, his hands hovering just inches away. “You’re still you, Jason. You’re still my husband.” Jason’s laugh was bitter, almost a sob. “You don’t understand. I’ve killed them. Joker. Riddler. Two-Face. There’s no redemption for me. I’ve left a trail of blood and bodies. I’m not the man you fell in love with. I’m not—”

“Stop,” Danny interrupted, his voice firm. “Stop telling me who you think you are. I know you. I’ve always known you.” Jason clenched his fists. “Would you still love me if you knew all I’ve done? The things I can’t take back? The lives I’ve destroyed?” Danny took a step forward, his expression raw with emotion. “Yes. I would. I do.” Jason’s knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, his hands covering his face. “I’ve tried to fight it, Danny. I’ve tried to be better, but the rage... it doesn’t stop. It’s like drowning, and every time I surface, there’s more blood.”

Danny knelt in front of him, his hand finally resting on Jason’s shoulder. “I know,” he said softly. “I’ve felt it too—the weight of things you can’t undo. But you’re not alone anymore. I’ve been waiting for you, Jason. Waiting for you to come back to me.” Jason’s breath hitched, and he looked up, his blue eyes rimmed with tears. “How can you still love me after everything? I’m not... I’m not the man you knew.”

Danny smiled, his own eyes glistening. “You’re still the man I fell in love with. You’re still the man who carved our initials into a tree in the Infinite Realms. The man who made me laugh, who promised me forever. And I meant it when I said forever, Jason. No matter where or when or what you’ve done, I’ll love you. Always.”

Jason let out a shuddering breath, and for the first time in years, the weight on his chest lightened. He leaned into Danny’s touch, the Pit Rage ebbing as warmth spread through him. Danny cupped his face, their foreheads touching. “You don’t have to carry this alone anymore. Let me help you. Let me love you.” Jason closed his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.” Danny’s laugh was soft and full of love. “That’s for me to decide. And I’ve decided—over and over again—that I’ll always choose you.”

Jason’s arms wrapped around Danny, holding him tightly as if afraid he might disappear. But Danny held him just as firmly, grounding him, anchoring him. The green glow of the Infinite Realms pulsed around them, a quiet promise of redemption, of love that could weather even the darkest storms.

---

Danny didn’t leave Jason’s side that night, nor would he ever again. Together, they began the long, painful process of healing. The road ahead wasn’t easy, but they faced it together, their love, a beacon in the darkness.

The heroes would just have to get used to the unearthly presence of the Ghost King in their plane of existence. And no matter how much time passed, Danny knew one thing would never change: he would fall in love with Jason Todd, over and over again, for eternity.

[koishua]

ㅤ      ㅤ   𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀yarenim evde (my darling is home).ㅤ ওㅤ

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀hwang hyunjin fluff fem reader .ㅤ ও

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀1.121k words no warnings enjoy .ㅤ ও

ㅤ        ㅤ       𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀he comes home after gda2025! .ㅤ ও

Stepping into the confines of the familiar apartment’s front doors, he waits for the elevator to arrive from the topmost floor. The quiet bell alerts him to its arrival, ready to whisk him away to the place he calls home. The characteristic music assigned to elevators is absent. Small blessings, since his entire day had been about blaring speakers and blinding lights. Some quiet time was much needed to ease his desperate ear drums and nothing can stand between him and the soft touches of his favourite person alive (there are quite a few people he would commit near war crimes to meet, but we do not verge there).

When you open the door just as he is about to reach for his spare keys, the warmth of a home lived-in and loved greets him like an embrace, your arms pulling him in gently through the door and taking his coat before he reaches to undo his shoes. The world seems to tilt at its axis without warning and he has to rush to put a hand on the floor for balance, struck by an unforgiving moment of exhaustion now that he’s finally reached his safest space. 

“Woah,” you reach for the slumped over man by the shoe racks, soft hands gripping his assuredly, bringing him over to the sofa– thank God– closeby, “don’t worry. You aren’t dying, loverboy.”

Hyunjin chuckles at the teasing remark, content at finally catching the faint scent of your perfume clinging onto your clothes from earlier that morning. Lying down, he’s finally able to come back to his senses, making out a buzzing sound of what he assumes to be the coffee you loved to literal death. He has to fulfill his boyfriend duties and worry about your health, so he peeks over the back of the couch to reprimand, “You shouldn’t be drinking that at this time of the night.”

“Right, because you always listen to me when I tell you to rest. I’ll drink this, thank you.” You have to roll your eyes at his offended expression, though none taken. Offering him a mug of his favourite calming tea, you sit on the carpet by his side, coffee and tea resting on the small table until they cool down just enough to drink without scalding your tongues.

Hyunjin traces over the valleys of your face, flicking the bridge of your nose with a laugh from where he’s lying on his side, facing your direction like the sunflower to your sun. Your elbow rests on the cushion, supporting your cheek. The makeup his stylists had applied on him for their award show performance tonight looked impeccable, still, despite how worn his body felt. You admired the eyeshadow framing his brown eyes– so warm, so full of adoration, practically dripping with overflowing honey. 

“You did good,” your thumb brushing over his cheekbone, cupping his jaw, “I was watching you and my friends kept gushing about you.” Your beloved’s face gleams with mirthful eyes, amused by the fact that none of your friends knew who your long-time boyfriend seemed to be, still. You were always the first one to tease them for being such big fans, devilishly keeping the tiny little secret that their favourite member has been in love with you for years now and you couldn’t imagine a life without him henceforth. 

The day he’d facetimed you sporting his brand new hair, you’d shrieked, dropping your phone in the process. He’d grown worried, wondering if you’d hated it, but you simply demanded he come home as soon as he possibly could. Why, he’d questioned, not that he’d ever refuse, and when you dropped the “We’re going to have so much fun.” bomb on him, he’d left his belongings on the spot, damn near hopping and skipping his way over.

Now, he is sliding down the cushion to huddle into your side. Warm tea in his hand, an arm slung comfortably around his sun’s shoulder to bring her closer without a single worry of being taken over by your scorching heat. Welcoming the destruction as much as the creation of everything beautiful in this world (his world, because so long as he has you, Hwang Hyunjin is a King and the whole world is his– you are).

Your fingers absentmindedly play with the hand over your shoulder he has graced you with, sipping on your caffeine concoction. “Congratulations on your Bonsang. You guys deserve it so much with how hard you work and deliver. Tell the boys that I’m so happy for them, too.” 

Light reaches his eyes when his lips pull apart into a wide smile, still exhilarated by the prospect of having won. “Thank you, my boss lady.” He presses a chaste kiss on your temple, getting a waft of your shampoo he’s used on more than a handful of occasions, later on finding one of his own in the shower. Now, everything here seemed to be for two, hints of love scattered all around in every insignificant corner of the house. 

“Shut up,” you giggle at the name he’d designated for you a long while ago, “I should be called Lady Overlord at this point.”

There is a certain pitch he laughs at like a cute little chime and you’re lucky enough to hear it on the regular. “People think I’m talking about my CEO whenever I tell them that boss is calling. It’s pretty funny, to be honest.”

Finding moments of silence as comfortable as this is hard for someone constantly surrounded by loud friends and loud music so Hyunjin knows to cherish it until it eventually ends. For now, he succumbs to the ache in his bones and lays his head on your lap, spine finally decompressing all of the pressure it has withstood the whole award season preparation period, followed up by rigorous performances. Tingles run down until they reach his fingertips from the way you oh, so deliciously run your nails on his scalp, smoothing over his short hair, the texture so satisfying to play with that you can never seem to get enough of it.

You know the effect it has on him as he’s often fallen asleep to you playing with his hair, short and long. He still has to take off his stage makeup and shower off the sweat and debris, but you allow him this brief moment of rest. That can wait another fifteen minutes, showing some much needed love and affection cannot. You can see his lashes fluttering closed despite trying his damndest to keep them open (he needs to keep them open, damn it, you wouldn’t understand. Breathing is a sin unless it’s your scent, sight a sin unless it’s to look into your eyes. You don’t understand, his planet orbits around your sun. Without you pulling him in, he is but a rogue, lost in the dark and cold space, wandering without aim).

“Relax, I’ll wake you up soon.” You shush him, swiping your palm over his eyes like a gentle feather. Hyunjin takes your word for it, drifting into a saccharine sweet sleep, lulled to sleep by your silent hum, the dishwasher’s rumble falling even further into the distant scapes of his mind.

© KOISHUA 2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[idstilldancewithu]

Lose My Mind | S.R

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Hotchner Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid accepts your request. Without thinking about the consequences.

Warnings: Loss of virginity, fingering, grinding, making out, denial of orgasm, cream pie (kind of), unprotected sex, Spencer is big on consent and calls reader baby and pretty girl, but calls her friend afterward. Please tell me if I missed anything!

A/N: This is part 2 of Forbidden Request, and my first time writing smut. I plan on making part 3 with a happy ending if not, I might turn this into a series!

Word count: 1,089

Part 1 | Part 2

•••

Spencer tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "How could I ever say no to you pretty girl?" He whispered filling my body with excitement.

Spencer began leaving a trail of gentle kisses down my neck, making sure to not leave any evidence behind.

I ran my hands through his hair, tugging it. Moving my hips forward wanting to relive some tension, a light moan escaping my lips.

Making him grab my hips harder, and grind onto his bulge in a quicker pace.

"Fuck, baby." He moaned letting go of my hips, and placing his hands on my cheeks pulling me into a desperate kiss. I immediately kissed back not wanting to ever let him go.

He pulled away breathlessly, and held my hips with a force that made me stop grinding onto him causing me to whine at the loss.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?" I quickly nodded in response.

He placed his hand on my chin making me look up at him. "Use your words pretty girl."

"Yes, Spencer please." I begged trying to move my hips again but failing. As he quickly noticed, and held my hips back in place.

"If at some point it feels like too much tell me and I will stop."

"I will."

He placed a quick chaste kiss on my lips, and lifted me up holding on to my ass. I wrapped my legs around him as he took me to his room, and gently laid me down on the bed.

He spread my legs apart and I put my hips up helping him take off my skirt and underwear.

Spencer began kissing my inner thigh. "You're so beautiful." His mouth got closer to my heat and he placed two fingers onto my cunt without any warning.

"You're soaking pretty girl. Is all this for me?"

"Yes, Spence." I moaned in response. As he began to push them in and out in a quicker pace each time. I bit my lip trying to stay quiet.

"Don't do that baby, let me hear how good I'm making you feel." He fastened his pace trying to get me closer to the edge.

"Spence, I'm so close." I whined.

He removed his fingers denying me of my release making me whine at the loss. Spencer took his fingers into his mouth tasting my arousal.

"You taste so good pretty girl."

"Spencer please, I need you." I moaned again desperately wanting to feel him in between my legs.

He took his wallet out of his pocket but before he could open it, I stopped him. "I'm on birth control, we don't have to use a condom and I know that you're clean."

"If that's what you want pretty girl then it's alright with me."

He kissed me again in a way that made me realize that he needed me in the same way I needed him.

I began unbuttoning his shirt kissing his chest at the same time. Making him throw his head back in pleasure.

When I was finally done, I slid the shirt off his shoulders discarding it. I unbuckled his belt and slid off his jeans throwing them on the floor.

"My turn." He said touching the end of my shirt as I lifted my hands into the air letting him take it off.

Then, he unclasped my bra and took it off. Placing his hands on my chest taking my hardened nipple in his mouth circling it with his tongue.

Putting his free hand onto my other nipple slightly pinching it in between his fingers.

"Spencer, stop...teasing me." I managed to get out.

"You're so needy baby. But, are you sure you want this?" He asked.

"Yes, Spencer Reid I need you." I desperately responded, trying to reassure him.

He placed his tip on my entrance and touched my clit teasing me. I placed my hands on his hair gripping it, trying to get used to the sensation.

Spencer slowly placed his cock in me being careful not to hurt me. Once he was fully inside, I let out a moan.

Once the pain began to diminish, and I adjusted to his length, pleasure overtook my senses. "Spence, please move." I begged wanting more.

He obeyed my request and began moving his hips. "Fuck baby you're doing so good for me right now. You look so beautiful under me."

I wrapped my legs around his hips wanting to feel him deeper in me. Spencer started fucking me in a faster pace making me clench around his cock.

His movements began to get sloppier and faster, his breath getting deeper. "Spence, I'm close" I moaned feeling closer to the edge, and closing my eyes at the immense pleasure my body was feeling.

"Open your eyes pretty girl, let me see you when you come on my cock." He order and I obliged opening my eyes letting out a moan at his words.

Within seconds I came undone on his cock reaching my high, and chanting his name like a prayer. He continued thrusting into me through my orgasm wanting to reach his release.

"Come in me please. I want you to fill me up." I begged. At my words he reached his high filling me up just like I asked.

He kissed my forehead affectionately, and stood up making his way to the bathroom placing his boxer briefs back on. Spencer came back with a towel and one of his T-shirt's.

"You did so good for me Y/N. You can stay the night if you want." He said as he cleaned me up gently.

"Yes, thank you Spencer, for everything." I thanked him and put on the shirt he gave me.

"You don't have to thank me Y/N. I'm just helping out a friend." He said and placed me on top of his chest.

"Goodnight, Spence."

Spencer hummed in response, and rubbed my back in a comforting manner closing his eyes.

The realization that Spencer Reid had taken away my virginity hit me and I knew that there was no way I could ever forget the way his skin felt on mine.

For him I would lose my mind thinking of what could have been if only my last name wasn't Hotchner.

If only he didn't think of me as a friend.

•••

Part 1 | Part 2

[joocomics]

something suggestive with cocky!jongseob mayhaps? 😇

will you give me just a minute to fangirl over the fact i woke up to seeing you in my inbox please 😭 omg you’re such an inspiration to me i love your writing and everything you do on your blog <3 now i’m a bit nervous but hopefully you enjoy my little thoughts on your fav boy!

tags: suggestive, established relationship, kissing, cocky!jongseob, jealous bf!jongseob

when i think about cocky!jongseob i think of his tendency to get possessive and hear me out…

when you’re out with friends especially at night clubs and parties where there will be tons of people jongseob cannot help but get excited about people seeing him with you - you’re gorgeous, hot and most importantly his. you might not realise it, but people around you always do - he’s proud to have you. his eyes sparkle with fascination as they follow you in the crowd, his hand remains on the small of your back throughout the night and when you’re telling a story to your mutual friends he’s always carefully listening to it from start to finish despite the fact he’s heard it several times already. and that’s where that slight ego boost comes from that can have him acting cocky as he shows you off without even realising, especially if he’s had a drink or two with you, hopefully i make sense right now…

his hands become bolder, his tone cheeky and playful meanwhile his eyes start to look at you with lust rather than with fascination like earlier. it’s interesting that the cockier he gets, the more he clings to you, but it’s true. his arms go around your waist from behind to pull you close against his chest and his warm lips are at your ear as he flirts with you; making comments about how that guy, the friend of your friend, was trying so hard to impress you. “baby, are you jealous right now?” you turn to face him as the presence of his hands remains on your lower waist; moving dangerously lower. “you’re mine,” is all he says, “everyone here knows it.” and even his kisses feel different in these moments - more obsessive than ever before. his lips move quicker, with hunger that leaves you breathless as the crowd keeps mingling around you. his greedy touch povokes little moans to escape your tongue and that calls for a satisfied smirk to form on his flushed face. “let’s get out of here…” you’re the first to say it, and you could care less if it makes you look desperate or needy. jongseob takes your chin with two fingers clearly liking your change of attitude. “is this party getting too boring for you?” his knee settles between your legs as you sway side to side; as if to let you know he’s aware of your desires. “or is there something else you’d rather be doing right now?” he wants to hear you say it - that you need him; that you want to leave this place to be with him, it fuels him with adrenaline. the corners of his mouth twitch mischievously; a quick small sign of the cocky mood he’s going to be in throughout the rest of the night and that’s going to elevate his dominance once it’s just the two of you alone…

[aishi-toru]

GOJO SATORU [ 五条悟 ] ⟡✦ mdni — p in v (afab!reader), unprotected saxophone, breeding, he's filthy n pathetic, cussing, baby trapping(??), not proofread, pet names, im ovulating forgive me !!

even if he's never had one before, satoru believes that your body itself serves as an aphrodisiac—it has him so avid on the daily, he can't help the way his mind strays to, y'know... other things.

which is how you find yourself buried under his oversized frame, being pounded in missionary by the seemingly insatiable man.

"fuck- i'm sorry... so sorry, baby- i just have to cum inside," satoru whimpers so desperately it's pathetic, voice breaking and eyes saturated with tears from overstimulation; tears that you brought about.

you'd never think you could have the strongest in such a chokehold, but fate works in mysterious ways, it seems. it's not his fault, though! your pretty 'lil cunt just hugs and clenches around his dick sooo good, so tight, he just can't help it...

"it's okay, 'toru, give it all to me," you coo, your hand reaching out to caress his flushed cheek as you stare up to him—so lovingly, so sweetly, it has satoru orgasming in that very instant, letting out the most pornographic of moans.

his warm seed floods you as his angry tip kisses abuses your cervix, which is more than enough to have you gushing out literal buckets of cum.

his glowing, aquamarine eyes roll back as he feels your semen and his own envelope his cock, but oh... when they flicker down to where you and him are connected—not to mention, the white ring around the base of his dick—satoru goes feral.

his mind is then corrupted with thoughts of stuffing you so full of his seed, you can't even hold it all—the stream would drizzle down your thighs if you even tried to walk, which you wouldn't be able to by the time he'd be done with you.

without any warning, he starts thrusting back into you—mercilessly, vehemently, so good it was even mouth-watering. you can't hold suppress the whine that escapes you when the depraved man on top of you tells you just how fervent he is when it comes to you—with his hips, that is.

and now, he's imagining you claimed as his property—wearing his initials on a necklace instead of the snowflake pendant adorning your skin currently despite the fact that you bought it because it reminded you of him, the big fat diamond ring he'd propose to you with, and the huge streamline of gifts he'd be sure to give you.

he takes a mental note to tell you just how much he loves you, even though he's doing that already— he's just too lost in the sensation of you to be able to realise.

but, wait! it seems that satoru has forgotten that you and he are only friends with benefits... eh, it's whatever! he'll surely make you his someday, if not right now considering how he's repeatedly pushing his cum back into you.

[sshadow-heartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

•Squid Game C.AI bots here!

🤍Cho Sang-Woo x Player!Reader

🤍With one more game to go, Sang-Woo doesn’t like your odds. He loves you enough to know that you don’t need to continue suffering, taking things into his own hands…

🤍Word Count: 1.2k

🤍Tags: Angst, Murder, Slight Gore?, Glass Shard as murder weapon, Stabbing,False Hope, Betrayal

•masterlist

‼️If you are sensitive to the tagged topics, please keep scrolling!‼️

It had been a long day. After a dangerous game of glass stepping stones, you had watched player after player fall to their death. Only three of you remained - Sang-Woo, Gi-Hun and yourself.

Retreating to your bed, you looked up at the ceiling, the large piggy bank sending a soft, golden glow over the room. It had to be almost over, right? There were only three of you left, surely there were no more than two games to go.

You sighed, thinking of everything you would be able to do once winning. Pay off your debts, get a drink with your friends…

Start over.

Your thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, and you turn your gaze towards the sound. It was just Sang-Woo, you had grown to become fond of the man during your time. You had been apart of the same team, alongside Gi-Hun, Ali…

Painful memories crossed your mind, Ali was gone. He wasn’t coming back. You had to move on, no matter how tough it felt.

“Quiet in here, huh?” Sang-Woo’s voice speaks up, drawing you away from your own mind. He was stood above you, a few scrapes across his face from the glass tiles exploding. Dark eyes studied yours, his own expression unreadable. You could never tell what he was truly thinking.

“Yeah�� it’s weird without everyone else here,” you shrug, the room holding a strange eeriness without the hundreds of players that once resided with you. “How many more games do you think there are?”

He stayed quiet, thinking. “One… maybe two? That’s my guess. Just a little longer and we’ll all be out of here and way richer than we ever were, too.”

You smiles, nodding at his reassurance. “Yeah, you’re right,” you nod, patting the space on your bed for him to sit down.

Taking a seat, Sang-Woo keeps his hand in his pocket, the other reaching forward to rest on your thigh. His thumb strokes your skin through the fabric of your pants, looking down at you with a slight hint of softness. “You’re coming for a drink with me and Gi-Hun, right? When we get out of here?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Settling into comfortable silence, you allow your eyes to slip closed. You could feel Sang-Woo’s hand on your thigh, a small comfort in such a place. The two of you had grown close rapidly, you admired him. He was smart, and confident and seemed to know what he was doing. All of that lured you in, made you desperate to win his affection. He had seen you during the dalgona round, working ever so calm despite the shootings around you. He knew you would fight to survive, and he wasn’t sure if he loved you for it, or hated it.

Sang-Woo looked down at you, eyes closed and breathing steady. He couldn’t work out if you were sleeping, though it’d be best if you were…

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Gi-Hun across the room, taking a much needed nap. He turned back to you, sliding his hand out of his pocket. He glanced down, eyeing the object he had been keeping so secretly.

A glass shard, sharp and easy enough to stab someone with. He took a breath, steadying himself and his nerves. Sang-Woo had decided you needed to go nights before, a long thought-out choice. He theorised the final game would be between the three of you, some sort of direct competition against each of you. Sang-Woo knew there could only be one winner, one player who takes the amount home.

You had become a distraction to him, his feelings overriding his logic. You were beautiful, strangely optimistic after what you had been through, and gosh, he… he loved you. He knew that if you faced against him, he would let you win. Let you walk away with the money, and a better life. No, he needed that money for himself. It’d be him and Gi-Hun. He could take down his childhood best friend, surely…

Sang-Woo leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A sick and twisted act of love before enacting his wicked plan. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, smiling up at him as though he’s the most wonderful man in the world. He wasn’t, not that you needed to know that.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, trying to make it easier. You wouldn’t struggle, or cry or yell. He didn’t want you to view him as a monster. In a way, he was doing something good for you. What if you suffered in the next game? What if you had to watch him die? No… that wouldn’t be an option for you. You’d have the peaceful way out, all thanks to him.

“Lay with me?” You ask, softly. It was such an innocent request, he couldn’t deny you. Laying down behind you, he wrapped an arm over your waist, pulling you against his chest. “You’re safe with me,” he lied. “Nobody will hurt you.”

Both laying in silence, legs tangled together, Sang-Woo waited for you to begin drifting off. He had to wait for the right moment, he didn’t want you to fight him on this. You wouldn’t realise it was for the good of things. His mind replayed everything you had told him. You were in severe debt, over a million won. You had nobody out there, no family, no friends. Loan sharks were waiting to get you.

It was no life for anyone. Even if you paid off your debts, you’d still be alone. There was no way you’d all make it out alive. He knew that, he wasn’t dumb. He, on the other hand, had plenty to return to. He could get himself out of debt, though his reputation would still be ruined. He could give money to his mother, have enough to live comfortably. Yes, Sang-Woo knew he needed to survive. It’d be better for him than it would be for you.

He leaned down, face nuzzled against your neck. A final moment of comfort, his arm wrapped around you tightly. He had the glass shard ready and waited, concealed in his free hand. Gi-Hun was still sleeping, nobody paying close enough attention to him or to you.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Before your half-asleep mind can process his words, Sang-Woo digs the glass shard into your stomach. He continues to hold you close, your blood pooling on the bed. He strokes your hair, whispering soft comforts to you.

“Shh, just let it happen. Its for the best, you’ll see that.”

You cough and choke, unable to say anything as the light drains from your eyes and blood pools into your mouth. You felt pain, and nothing more than that. A white, hot blinding pain as the room began to dim. You were tired, so… so tired. It’d feel so good to close your eyes right now.

As Sang-Woo felt you go limp in his arms, a small tune played over the speakers, a voice ringing out.

“Lights out! All players must return to their beds.”

As the lights shut off, Sang-Woo closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths to calm his shaking hands. One more game, he repeated in his mind. One more game…

[suguslve]

‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧— 7 MINUTES OF HEAVEN IN HELL

synopsis: you’d been doing an excellent job at avoiding Lucifer these past few days—you kept your distance, stayed busy, kept your focus elsewhere—but of course, fate had other ideas. Getting stuck in a small closet with him was definitely not part of your plan, yet here you were.

♰ pairings. lucifer morningstar x afab!reader

♰ genre. smut (porn with plot unfortunately)

♰ warnings. fingering. reader gets called doll by Luci like…twice i think. she also gets called whore and slut :P

♰ word count. 1.7k

♰ a/n. first ever smut pls go easy on me 😕 YES THIS IS PORN WITH PLOT IK I HATE IT TOO BUT I HAD TO!! enjoy reading and lmk your thoughts!

Ignoring Lucifer wasn’t something you had planned, not exactly, but under certain circumstances, you had to. It all started one evening when you poured your heart out to him, confessing that you liked him—so much so that the weight of your feelings felt like it could drown you. You were a mess—sweaty palms, nervous gaze, shaky breath—but he stayed calm. "Y/N..." he said, and as you lifted your gaze to meet his, you saw only pity, and cold harsh rejection. Before he could say anything more, you had already turned away, desperate to escape the suffocating tension. You had gotten good at avoiding him, finding company with his brothers instead.

A few days had passed and Asmo decided to host a small, intimate celebration at the House of Lamentation, to honor his milestone of 2 million followers on Devilgram. You sat in his room as you waited for him to finish getting ready, he had insisted that he would be the one to doll you up.

“You know you really should take this chance to stop avoiding Lucifer. The tension between you two is so painfully obvious, everyone can see it! Even Beel can tell!” he said, making finishing touches to his makeup. You rolled your eyes at him. “Uh huh and then what? Face his rejection? I think I’ll pass.” He glanced over at you with a sigh. “Well, maybe he won’t reject you—maybe you’re just overthinking it—” You cut him off.

“Shh! No more Lucifer talk from this point on. I forbid it! Now, are you finally done so you can start dolling me up?” you asked, giving him the cutest puppy eyes. “Fine! Come here. I just got this new makeup palette that would look fab on you.” he said, ushering you to his makeup table.

After hours of hair styling, lipstick swatching, and dress fitting, he was finally done. He motioned for you to stand and turn so he could admire his work. “Perfect! Now no one will be able to take their eyes off you—especially dear old Luci—AHEM, I mean... You better not steal my spotlight okay? Not that you can anyway.” he clasps his hands together as he urged you both outside where the others were waiting.

The night was as lively—as expected from Asmo. You had danced to your heart’s content and drank without any care in the world. As you sat on the sofa, chatting and drinking with Solomon, Asmo stumbled over to you both. “Hey, want to join us? We’re about to play 7 minutes in heaven—well, hell, I guess.” he slurred. You shared a look with Solomon. “Why not?” you said, feeling carefree from all the alcohol, Solomon nodded in agreement. “Perfect! Let’s go then, everyone’s waiting!” Asmo said, cheerfully pulling you both along.

When you arrived, you noticed the group consisted of just the brothers and a few other demons. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lucifer chatting with Barbatos, but you paid it no mind at all. You sat between Mammon and Satan, and to no one’s surprise, Lucifer sat directly across from you, his gaze fixated on you. Great, you thought, this was going to be a long night.

After a few rounds and drinks later, it was finally your turn. Asmo shot you a mischievous glance before spinning the bottle. You stared at the floor, not wanting to know who you’d be paired with. The room fell silent as the bottle came to a stop. You looked around at first before your eyes landed on the bottle—it landed on Lucifer. You were about to protest when you saw him stand up and make his way towards you. Without a word, he took your hand and gently pulled you toward the closet.

Once inside, you quickly pulled your hand away from him. Great—here you were, stuck in a closet with the one demon you were avoiding like the plague, and for 7 minutes no less! You tried to focus on anything but him, grateful for the dim light in the small space. Your dilemma was cut short when you realized the position you were in: you were face-to-face with Lucifer, his thigh positioned in between your legs, his arms placed above you. ‘Oh fuck me.’ you thought. ‘You know what? I could just ignore him for the whole 7 minutes. How hard can that be?’ your thoughts were then interrupted by a deep voice.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” he said, his tone firm. You rolled your eyes but decided to remain silent. He sighed softly before his fingers gently grasped your chin, turning your face to meet his.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes locking with yours, the closeness between you two evident as you smell the faint scent of alcohol lingering on him. “I wasn’t avoiding you.” you answer defensively. He let out a soft chuckle. “You really expect me to believe that?” His voice was low, a hint of teasing lacing his words. You tried to avoid his stare, but it was impossible to look away.

“Was it because of your confession the other day?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with intensity. You sighed, trying to step back. “No. I’m not doing this with you. Not now, not ever.” You attempted to open the closet door, but before you could, he pulled you back toward him.

“No, we’re doing this now,” he insisted, his grip firm as he turned you to face him. He looked at you for a brief moment, and then, without warning, he cupped your face and kissed you. The kiss was full of intensity, passion, and something deeper—something you couldn't deny. You were taken aback and was about to pull away, but before you could, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you even closer. Everything around you seemed to fade as you gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever before he finally pulled away, breathless.

“This was not how I wanted things to go.” he murmured. “But you’re just so stubborn so I had to take matters into my own hands.” he caressed your face before speaking up.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, his voice low and filled with desperation. You nodded eagerly, your heart racing. “Please.” you whimpered. He let out a soft chuckle, but it was quickly swallowed by him pulling you into another kiss. This kiss was raw, fervent, and intoxicating, leaving you weak in the knees.

His hands gripped your waist possessively, bringing you closer to him as you tangled your fingers in his hair. A deep growl rumbled from his throat before his lips trailed down to your neck. You moaned softly. “Luci, please. I need you.” you gasped, the alcohol fueling your boldness and longing.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Are you sure? We can—” But before he could finish, you crashed your lips against his. “If you don’t touch me right now,” you whispered breathlessly against his mouth, “I swear I’ll lose my mind.” Without a moment's hesitation, he slowly unzipped your dress, just enough to free your breasts. He immediately captured one with his mouth, while his other hand explored the other. You moaned louder this time, completely unbothered by the possibility of being overheard by the others. His eyes burned with desire as he took in the sight of you.

“Luci— fuck… I need more.” he chuckled as he pulled away from your breast. “Your wish is my command.” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot, before kissing you deeply as his hand went lower.

His hand roamed at your thighs before placing it on your pussy. His chuckle was dark, almost cruel, as his fingers brushed over the thin lace of your panties. “Jesus, doll,” he breathed. “Already this soaked for me? And I barely even touched you.” He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties and tugged them aside. The cool air hit your exposed core, making you flinch, but then his finger was there, brushing over your slick folds, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Fuck.” he muttered, circling your entrance lazily. Without warning, he pushed a finger inside you, curling it just right to press against that spongy spot deep within. You bit your lips harshly at that. He leans in closer to you, his head tilting slightly, as if mocking you. “Yeah? You like that, doll? Like being a good little slut for me?”

This man was going to be the death of you.

You clenched as he added a second finger, stretching you further. His thumb found your clit, rubbing circles that had your vision blurring.

He pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving you empty and aching, and you whined softly, reaching for him instinctively. But he caught your wrist, pinning it to the wall above your head. His other hand wrapped around your throat. “As much as I’d love to see you cum on my fingers right now, we’re still in the closet. And as much as I want to hear you moan my name over and over, my brothers are still outside, wouldn’t want them hearing how much of a whore you are for me now would we?”

You blinked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. He was right. You fumbled with your dress, your hands shaking as you adjusted your panties and smoothed the fabric back into place.

As you made your way out of the closet you were surprised to see the empty room, the mess of the after-party still scattered about. Lucifer’s chuckle echoed softly, a mix of amusement and something else, as he looked at the scene before him, then he effortlessly lifted you in his arms.
“Well, it seems my foolish brothers have finally managed to use that brain of theirs.” he remarked, his tone teasing, as he carried you toward his room.

“Let’s continue what we started then. I’ll make sure you’ll scream and writhe for me.” he whispers against your lips before kissing you once more.

You knew that you still needed to have a long conversation about the whole confession thing, but you have plenty of time to worry about that. God, you owe Asmo one.

all rights reserved to © suguslve.

[darlinluxx]

love your writing, so scrumptious and poetic🥰 i love a fellow saebyeok fangirl😩🩷

what do you think about a short fic about the reader slowly becoming friends with saebyeok who works at the local convenience store. like this bubbly kinda awkward girl just doesn’t get the hint the saebyeok doesn’t wanna talk and ends up wearing her down over time til they become friends and start to develop feelings😌

i’d love to see it, keep up the amazing work!

love koogiie 🍓

𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : mentions of smoking, mentions of small injuries

a/n : thank u so much !! your comments are the sweetest <3

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he bell above the door jingles, a familiar sound that barely registers anymore. it’s late, past midnight, and the fluorescent lights of the convienne store hum a lonely tune. you’re restocking the ramen shelves, humming along to the song playing from the tiny speaker behind the counter, when you see her.

she’s tall and thin, with a haunted look in her eyes that seem to absorb the harsh glow. she moves with a strange grace, like a stray cat who knows every alleyway in the city. it’s Saebyeok, and she’s a regular, though “regular” feels too casual for someone who exudes such a guarded energy. she always comes in late, grabs a pack of cigarettes, and maybe a drink, usually without a word.

your heart does a little flip, a nervous flutter you’ve come to recognize. she’s intriguing, in a way that makes your palms sweat a little. you push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and, despite all your better judgment, you decide to be friendly.

“late night, huh?” you chirp, your voice a little too high-pitched. you flash her a wide, hopefully not creepy smile.

she doesn’t smile back. or even look at you, really. she grabs a pack of cigarettes, pays, and walks towards the door.

“have a good night!” you call after her, your voice tinged with a bit of embarrassment.

you tell yourself she didn’t hear you, but the truth is, she heard. she’s just not interested.

the next night, she’s back. same time, same kind of cigarettes. you tell yourself you’ll play it cool, be nonchalant, but the moment you see her you’re back to your usual, bubbly self.

“hey! how’s it going?” you ask, leaning on the counter as you try to look cool. you are desperately failing. “anything interesting happen today?”

she doesn’t answer. she doesn’t even make eye contact. she just grabs her things, pays, and leaves.

okay, you think. maybe she’s just not a talker. but you’re stubborn. and maybe, just a little, you’re drawn to her quiet mystery.

you make a point of learning her usual order. you start stocking her favorite brand of cigarettes by the register so they’re easier for her to grab. you’ve even started leaving out a small bag of her favorite chips, just in case she wants them. you leave it on the counter, a silent offering.

she ignores it at first. then, one night, as she’s leaving, you see her glance at the bag. for the briefest moment, you think you see a flicker of something in her eyes that isn’t cold indifference.

it’s a small victory, but it fuels you. you keep talking to her, babbling about your day, your annoying coworkers, the latest tv show you’re obsessed with. she doesn’t respond for the most part, but sometimes, just sometimes, you notice a subtle shift in her posture, a tiny twitch of her lips. she’s listening. you know it.

one rainy night, you’re both the only ones in the store as you mop the floors. Saebyeok comes in, her usually stoic face looking even more pale in the dim lighting. she’s soaking wet, her hair plastered to her forehead. you see a small scrape on her hand that you know she’s probably too proud to care for.

“oh my god, you’re drenched!” you blurt out. you quickly grab a clean towel from behind the counter. “here, you gotta dry off.” you offer it to her.

she hesitates, then slowly takes the towel. you watch her awkwardly pat her hair, her movements surprisingly delicate. for a moment, the walls you always see her putting up seem to waver.

“you should probably clean that,” you say, pointing to the graze on her hand. you reach for the first aid kit.

she raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t refuse as you dab antiseptic on the scratch, bandaging it gently. you feel your face flush as you work.

“thank you.” she murmurs, her voice barely audible, but it’s the first time you’d ever heard it.

it’s quiet, but that small thank you is enough. you beam at her. this is a progress, a breakthrough.

over time, the silence that once surrounded Saebyeok starts to feel less like a wall and more like a quiet understanding. she doesn’t talk much, but she’ll occasionally meet your gaze, a slight curve to her lips as you tell another story. you catch her watching you as you dance along to the music while restocking shelves. she starts grabbing a soda along with her cigarettes, and she sometimes even accepts the bag of chips you leave out. you start to feel a warmth settle in your chest whenever she comes in.

one night, she stays a little longer. you’re closing up, counting the till, and she leans against the counter, watching you.

“why?” she asks, her voice low.

“why what?” you ask, confused.

“why are you so…” she trails off, searching for the right word. “nice?”

your heart clenches at the question. “i don’t know,” you admit with a nervous laugh, “you just seem like you need a friend.”

a small, almost imperceptible smile appears on her face.

“maybe.” she whispers, her eyes meeting yours.

that night, you realize something has shifted. it’s not just a friendship that you’re forging with this quiet, guarded woman. there’s something else, a pull, a connection that leaves you breathless and a little scared. your heart skips a beat, the same little nervous flip, but this time, it’s joined by a slow, burning warmth. it’s something you can’t deny, something you desperately hope she feels too. and she does, but she won’t tell you that. you catch her gaze, and the look in her dark eyes sends a shiver down your spine. you’re not just friends anymore. and maybe, that’s exactly what you’ve both been hoping for.